Blind Ambition Part II Blind Fury
by Purupuss
Summary: The story of Blind Ambition continues on - On into the dark side. Ending number two. The saga is complete at last
1. Thirty Two

"Blind Ambition Part II - Blind Fury"   
  
- a trip to the dark side.  
  
Thirty Two - BF  
  
"I-I can't see."  
  
The words hit them like a bombshell. No one wanted to believe it.  
  
"Give it time Scott." His father pleaded.  
  
"I've given it time. I've given it a week!" Scott drew in a ragged breath. "I'll have to face it. I'm never going to see again!"  
  
"Doctor!" Jeff turned anxiously to the doctor who was standing there looking at his patient. "Can't you do something?"  
  
"Let me look at you, Scott." The doctor said gently. He got his torch from out of his pocket and shone it into Scott's eyes. There was no change in the dilation of the pupils. No squinting. No blinking.   
  
No reaction.  
  
The doctor stood back and laid his hand on his patient's arm. "I'm sorry Scott. I wish there was more I could do, but... I'm sorry," he repeated. "I'll give you all some time alone." He left the room.  
  
Jeff wanted to say something, anything. He was supposed to be the patriarch of this family and he should be able to say something to make everyone feel better. But what words could put this right? There were none. Just as when Lucille had died, Jeff felt at a loss. Once again, when his son needed him the most he felt that he was failing him...  
  
Grandma Tracy tried to hold back the tears. Over the past week there had been so many times when she could have given way and sobbed herself into a soggy mess, but she'd resisted, she'd remained strong. But somehow this was different. She'd convinced herself that Scott would be alright and the knowledge that he wouldn't be had come as a bitter blow. She could no longer hold back those tears...  
  
John saw his Grandmother start to weep and quickly circled the bed to be at her side. Wrapping his arms around her he held her close, but found himself unable to speak. He remembered the voice of the member of Regnad Corp cheerfully telling him that the seven scientists had safely got out and suddenly found himself hating the man. If International Rescue had been told earlier then none of this could have happened. Then John started questioning his own performance as he had many times over the previous few days. Could he have let Scott know earlier? Could HE have prevented this tragedy? He hugged his Grandma tight...  
  
Gordon remembered the bunting and streamers that he'd got together to celebrate Scott's homecoming. He'd chosen bright colours to greet his big brother and now he knew that Scott would never see those colours. Feeling sick he walked to the window and looked out. Scott would never see this view, never see the flower gardens, see the trees, see the clouds. Never pilot another plane. He leant his forehead on the glass as the nauseous feeling intensified...  
  
Alan wanted to run. To get out of this room. He felt as if he were to escape then this nightmare wouldn't have happened. That if he could walk out of that door, Scott's eyes would once again hold that spark of life. He remembered Tin-Tin. He'd promised her and Kyrano and Brains that he'd 'phone as soon as he had news. He'd readily promised to call, firmly believing that the news would be good. He could leave, he had the excuse - but the family, Scott needed him now...  
  
Virgil felt numb. This couldn't be happening! Not to Scott. Scott who was always so strong, so sure, so clear eyed. Then he remembered the last time he'd seen those eyes and shut his own to try to block out the horror of the image. It was then that Virgil realised that he'd always known that Scott wouldn't have a chance to see again. He'd repressed the knowledge, deluded himself to believe that Scott would see again, to give Scott hope, but still he'd always known...  
  
Scott didn't know what he felt. One moment he wanted to yell and scream and throw things and deny it all... The next he felt a calm acceptance. He'd survived one week okay, taking one day at a time. He could do this... Then he just wanted to curl up into a tiny ball and cry and beg his father to take this pain away, to make things right. Parents were supposed to be able to do that... 'But only when you're a little kid' he thought. 'You're not a child Scott. You're a grown man who's got to learn things all over again. How to read, how to write, how to find your way around, how to... I can't even imagine 'how to' what at the moment...'  
  
It was Virgil who eventually broke the silence. "Scott." He said softly. "I'm so sorry. But I'm here for you, we all are. We'll help where we can." There were murmurs of agreement from his family.  
  
"Thank you." Scott said tightly. "I'm going to need it..."  
  
The room was quiet for a while longer. Alan decided that he could no longer bear the oppressive silence. "Excuse me." He said. "I promised I'd ring Tin-Tin."  
  
"Sure Alan." Scott said. "Give her my love. I guess I won't be seeing her anytime soon."  
  
"Scott..."  
  
"Go on kid. I meant I'm going to have to be in rehabilitation for a few weeks."   
  
Alan escaped to the safety of the hallway. Once there he leant up against the wall and took a few deep breaths. After composing himself he went to the nurses station and asked if there was a 'phone nearby that he could use. He was directed to an empty room down the hall.  
  
He waited a full minute before he made the call.  
  
Tin-Tin answered almost immediately. "Alan how is..." she started eagerly and then her face fell as his expression sunk home. "Is he...?"  
  
Alan nodded. "It appears to be total."  
  
"Oh, Alan! Poor Scott!" tears welled up in her eyes.  
  
"Tin-Tin... please don't." Alan begged. He didn't know why he felt like this. His big brother was still alive. He would be coming home. But still Alan felt bereft as if Scott had somehow died. Seeing Tin-Tin's tears brought his own to the surface... 


	2. Thirty Three

When I started uploading "Blind Ambition" I thought I had completed this story. Then I started communicating with Dusty and realised that there was so much more that I could add. The result is the addition of the next eight chapters. I'd like to thank her for her inspiration, assistance and for adding a little realism.   
  
I've also decided that "Blind Ambition" starts a few weeks after my story "Everything Happens For A Reason". This may help to explain a few things I've written in the coming chapters.  
  
So, once again, thanks Dusty. You've helped me, and now you're going to help Scott Tracy...  
  
Purupuss  
  
Thirty Three - BF  
  
It was a subdued group of people on Tracy Island the following day. There were no joyful reunions. Each family member went their own way to be with their own thoughts.  
  
Gordon collapsed on his bed and looked about the room. His eyes fell on his Olympic gold medal, proudly displayed in its case on the wall. He remembered Scott's expression when he'd first seen it, a mixture of pride and awe. But his comment had been typically down to earth. "That's a nice bit of jewellery you've been given Gordo'. But I'm not sure you've got the right outfit to go with it."  
  
Sitting above the display case was a yellow, plastic, toy fish. 'Fishie' had been Gordon's favourite toy when his mother had been alive. He'd lost it during the avalanche when she'd been killed. If it hadn't been for Scott finding the correct place to start digging, both he and Alan may have suffered the same fate. If Scott hadn't been able to see the right place...  
  
Alan and Tin-Tin were sitting together on the beach. "I can't believe it." Alan kept repeating. "Not to Scott. I can't believe it."   
  
For some reason he kept remembering his first competitive Go Kart race. As he'd rounded the final bend he was only just behind the leading kart. He'd glanced into the crowd and there'd been Scott cheering him on - watching every moment of the race. He'd lost, but only just. "Never mind kid." Scott had said. "You'll do better next time. I can see how good you're going to be." And Alan had been as proud over hearing that comment from his oldest brother as if he'd actually won the race...  
  
Tin-Tin's memories were decidedly different. When she'd been a child she'd had something of a crush on the oldest Tracy brother. He'd been tall, dark and handsome, and to her tender years had seemed so grown up, especially with the way he'd cared for his younger brothers. She'd longed to have him take notice of her, and when those blue eyes would smile at her, she'd melt every time. She didn't know if he'd realised as he'd never said anything to her and she'd been too shy to tell him. She remembered those blue eyes. She hadn't seen them since before he'd set out for Regnad... would they still smile...?  
  
Kyrano was in the kitchen. Sooner or later the family would need to eat and he had to be ready. He picked up a spoon and tried to decide what to make. It seemed to him that every dish he could think of had been a favourite of Scott's. The young man had often come into the kitchen and watched him in awe. "I don't know how you do it Kyrano. I'm never bored with your cooking and to watch you... it's like watching an artist at work. Only don't tell Virgil I said so," he'd said once with a grin.   
  
Kyrano sighed. Mister Scott would never watch him again...  
  
Brains had retreated into his lab. He'd read and re-read every piece of literature on Scott's injuries that he could find in the hope that something might lead him to a cure. He'd drawn a blank. He booted up his computer, and once again started to trawl through the mountain of information at his disposal. Surely this time he could come up with something? He was supposed to be one of the most intelligent men on Earth. He had to find something to help his friend...  
  
John was sitting on the balcony, his feet resting on the railing. He wasn't taking in his surroundings. He was remembering yesterday's events. He was still in shock. They'd known that being members of International Rescue would be dangerous. They'd all been injured at some time or another, sometimes seriously, but it there'd never been anything that had resulted in a permanent disability. And now this!  
  
Scott had been their leader, he'd always watched over them, even when they were children. John remembered often dragging Scott to his telescope to show him something new that he'd discovered. "That's great Johnny." Scott had always said enthusiastically, even though he hadn't shared his brother's interest in astronomy. He'd always made it sound as if John's interests were more important than his own. To a young, quiet boy like John, his brother's endorsement had always meant so much.  
  
Then John started going back over the events of a week ago. He'd received the call from Regnad Corp. that the scientists were out, he'd ascertained how they'd escaped and then he'd tried to radio Scott. After five attempts he'd given up and contacted Virgil who was in the process of bandaging Scott's eyes. He hadn't reached Scott because he was already injured, but was he injured when he'd first learned the scientists were safe? Should he have radioed Scott straight away? John tried to work out the time factor and came to the conclusion that he couldn't have reached Scott in time to save him.   
  
But then that nagging doubt crept back again...  
  
Virgil sat at the piano. Under normal circumstances he would have been thrilled to be home, but now he felt as if he'd left a large part of himself behind.   
  
He stared at the closed keyboard. At times of high emotion he'd always expressed himself through his music or his art. Now, with his left arm still in a cast he was unable to release his feelings through the piano. He could still paint, but had lost any inclination to. It had been blown away in that explosion a week ago...  
  
Grandma Tracy had retreated to her own room and had got down the photo albums that had commemorated her grandsons' childhood. She started at the beginning. A tiny scrap wrapped up in a blanket that had seemed too big for him. His dark hair was in stark contrast to the white of the cloth and his blue eyes gleamed from beneath sleepy lids.  
  
She turned some pages. Here was the five year old looking excitedly through the brightly burning candles on his birthday cake. A huge grin appeared to split his face almost in two as he gazed at the camera.  
  
A few pages on and she found a photo of a teenaged Scott standing proudly beside his father and an aeroplane. Pinned to Scott's lapel were his newly gained pilots wings. It had been his proudest day and the culmination of his life's ambitions. Now he had his wings his life was mapped out before him. Like his father before him he was going to be a pilot. He was going to fly...  
  
With a sigh she put aside the photo album and stood up, smoothing her skirt as she did so. She had a job to do. This family needed her support and now she felt strong enough to offer it. She knew that there were two in particular who would need her assistance and she left the confines of her room to find them. She'd deal with John shortly, but first she started off by heading for the piano.  
  
"Virgil?" she sat on the piano stool beside him. "Are you alright Honey?"  
  
He was still staring at the keyboard lid. "Yes." He said quietly.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
The anguish in his eyes as he directed his gaze towards her gave her the true answer. "I-I knew, Grandma."  
  
"Knew what, Darling?"  
  
"I knew Scott wouldn't be able to see again."  
  
This statement surprised her. "How? Even the Doctor's didn't know until yesterday."  
  
"I-I saw his eyes... after the explosion... It was horrible Grandma. I'll never forget... His eyes will haunt me forever." He looked away and she saw that his right hand was clenched into a fist so tight that his knuckles were white.   
  
She drew him into an embrace. "Don't think about it."  
  
"I can't help it. I keep wondering, was there something else I could have done?"  
  
"You saved his life, Virgil. Remember that. There's no way he could have escaped without your help. You should be pleased with yourself. It's thanks to you that he'll be coming home."  
  
  
  
"But will he thank me?"  
  
  
  
She looked into her middle grandson's devastated face and was about to rebut the question. Then she remembered the photo of the young man standing proudly beside an aeroplane, wearing his newly acquired wings... and wondered...  
  
***  
  
He heard the door close behind him. The familiar voice spoke. "Come over to these chairs and sit down. I'll go and find the receptionist." He nodded numbly.  
  
What a day. What a miserable day.   
  
Today should have been a glorious day filled with sunshine and flowers and ocean views. Instead... nothing.  
  
Today he should have been heading home. Home to friends, and family, and familiar surroundings.  
  
Home with Virgil.  
  
And now Virgil was at home and he was in a strange new place. A place to learn how to live, how to cope, how to survive.  
  
He couldn't comprehend it. His world was in darkness... permanently. This couldn't be real. Surely it was a dream?  
  
"Scott?"  
  
He looked up.  
  
"Scott, this is Dusty."  
  
Scott felt her take his hand. "Hello Scott. I'm here to help you. I'm your therapist."  
  
He managed a weak 'Hi."  
  
He could hear sympathy underlying the cheerful tone in her voice. "First thing we'll do is get you set up in your room. I'll show you where everything is. If you'd like to come with me..."   
  
Scott stood and took her arm. They started walking. Scott heard his father pick up their bags and follow. He felt as if his mind was cut off from his body, as if he were watching a TV show with no picture.  
  
Dusty was explaining to him about the layout of the building, but he wasn't really taking it in. "This is where your father can stay... And here's your room." She said. "It's simple and uncluttered. There's a chest of drawers here." she led him over to them and allowed him to feel it, to get some idea of its dimensions. "And here is your bed."  
  
Scott sat down on it. It was soft, and comfortable, but it wasn't his bed. He wanted nothing more than to be able to retreat into his own bed and hide away under the covers. He wanted to hide from this nightmare.  
  
"Scott." Jeff asked uncertainly. "Do you want me to put your things in the drawers?"  
  
He received a numb nod by way of reply.  
  
***  
  
That first meal was a challenge. What he'd managed with relative ease in the hospital suddenly became an obstacle of Everest sized proportions.   
  
Jeff looked on with concern as his normally confident son hesitantly attempted to feed himself. Scott had barely said two words all day and Jeff was worried that his silence signified some kind of psychological deterioration.  
  
Scott speared a piece of carrot and raised it to his mouth. Jeff looked away as the carrot fell off, bounced off Scott's shirt and then rolled away onto the floor.  
  
Scott dropped the fork back onto the table. "I want to go back to my room."  
  
"But Scott you've hardly eaten..." Jeff started to say.  
  
"I want to go to my room!" Scott said forcibly and stood up. In doing so he caught his plate and knocked it and it's contents onto the floor. He heard the crash. "Please." He pleaded.  
  
"Of course." Jeff said quietly as laid down his own fork, ignoring the sympathetic glances they were receiving from others in the canteen. "Give me your arm."  
  
Back in the bedroom Scott pulled down the sheets. "I'm going to bed."  
  
"I'll get your pyjamas." Jeff offered.  
  
"I can't be bothered." Scott slipped off his shoes.  
  
"You can't go to bed in your clothes." Jeff protested.  
  
"Why not?" Scott snapped.  
  
"You've got cheese sauce down your front. It'll get onto the sheets."  
  
Scott felt his shirt. His fingers came away covered in sauce. He wiped them on his shirttail before removing the garment. Jeff took it and handed him his top.  
  
Scott felt for the edge. He found the buttons and tried to work out which way was up. He found a sleeve and slipped his arm into the hole. Something felt wrong and he realised that he had it on upside down. He pulled his arm out and started again. This time he managed to successfully get one arm in, but couldn't find the other sleeve.   
  
Jeff pulled the sleeve out so that it was lying correctly. Scott managed to get his arm through the hole. He did up the buttons.  
  
Jeff decided against telling him that the top was inside out and that the buttons and buttonholes weren't lined up correctly.  
  
Scott pulled off his trousers and accepted his pyjama pants. In attempting to put them on he managed to get the legs knotted up, one leg inside out and the whole mess upside down. In frustration he threw them onto the floor and, only partially dressed, got into bed, curling up on his side.  
  
Jeff picked the pyjama pants up. "Can I do anything else for you son?"  
  
"No."  
  
"I'll go and call home. Do you want to say anything?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Do you want me to give them a message?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Okay. I'll let you get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning." Automatically Jeff reached out brush a dark curl that had crept under the bandages that still protected much of Scott's face.  
  
At Jeff's touch Scott rolled further away from his father, burying his face in his pillow.  
  
With regret Jeff pulled his hand back. "Good night son."  
  
Scott didn't reply.  
  
*** 


	3. Thirty Four

Thirty Four - BF  
  
Next morning Jeff stood at the door connecting his room and Scott's. He knocked tentatively. "You awake Scott?"  
  
Upon receiving no reply he quietly opened the door.   
  
Scott was still in bed, lying on his back, eyes open, gazing sightlessly towards the ceiling.  
  
"Morning." Jeff tried to sound cheerful. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Fine." Scott replied unemotionally.  
  
"Breakfast's ready. Time to get up."  
  
"Not hungry."  
  
"You'll have to get up. Dusty's getting everything ready for you."  
  
"Don't want to get up."  
  
Jeff sat on the edge of the bed. "You can't stay in bed all day."  
  
Scott didn't move. "Why not."  
  
"You've got things to do."  
  
"Why bother?"  
  
"You can't just give up."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
Scott's monotone was starting to get to Jeff. He didn't know what to do. "Shall I lay out some clothes for you?"  
  
There was no reply.  
  
Jeff got the clothes ready anyway. Task finished he tried again. "Would you like me to help you get dressed?"  
  
Scott didn't acknowledge the question.  
  
"Scott... I - I want to help you. Tell me what to do."  
  
"You can't do anything for me!" Jeff was startled by the sudden emotion in Scott's voice as he sat up. "You can't help me! No one can!" He grabbed his blankets and lay back down again, pulling them over his head.  
  
"Scott..."  
  
"Leave me alone." The voice was muffled by the blankets.  
  
Unsure as to what else he could do, Jeff complied. He escaped to the hallway and leant against the doorframe trying to regain his own sense of composure.  
  
He was still standing there when Dusty found him. She gave him a smile of greeting. "How are you?"  
  
Jeff ran his hand over his face wearily. "I've been better."  
  
"How's Scott."  
  
His face spoke more eloquently than any words could. "He refuses to get up."  
  
"Ah." She said understandingly. "Maybe I should talk to him. Is he decent?"  
  
He remembered the episode with the pyjamas. "Mostly."  
  
"Mostly?"  
  
He explained.  
  
"Ah." She said again. "Maybe you'd better go tell him that if he doesn't get dressed soon I'll send 'Butch' in to dress him."  
  
"Butch?" Jeff queried.  
  
"One of our male nurses. Butch is his nickname. He doesn't stand any nonsense. I'll wait out here."  
  
Jeff was back in two minutes. "Give us half an hour."  
  
Dusty smiled again. "Fine. I'll be waiting."  
  
***  
  
Before they started the morning's session Dusty sat Scott down to talk to him. Jeff sat off to one side to observe.  
  
"Tell me a bit about yourself Scott."  
  
She thought she sensed a little uneasiness come over the pair of them but ignored it.  
  
"Um. What do you want to know?"  
  
"Tell me how you lost your sight?"  
  
She saw the emotion rage across his face as he struggled with the memories. Hesitantly he gave her the public version of events.  
  
"And your brother? Is he okay now?"  
  
For the first time he relaxed slightly. "Yeah. He's going to be fine once his broken arm's knitted."  
  
"What is your job?"  
  
He tensed up again. "I-I work for my father."  
  
"Doing what?"  
  
"I am... I was a pilot."  
  
"Oh." She glanced at Jeff Tracy whose face was set like stone. "What hobbies do you have?"  
  
"Hobbies? I-I don't know. I play the occasional game of chess. Work out in the gym. Most of my interests revolve around planes and flying. I've always wanted to fly."  
  
She decided to change the subject. "Who's in your family? There's your father, and you have a brother..."  
  
"I've got four brothers. I'm the oldest. I've always looked out for them. Watched over them..." his voice petered out.  
  
"Anyone else?" She prompted.  
  
"My Grandmother. And we live with Tin-Tin and her father, Kyrano and also Brains. They work for Father, but they're our friends too. They're good friends..."  
  
"So you've got plenty of people to support you." She noted.  
  
Scott nodded sombrely.  
  
"Have you used a cane before?"  
  
"Yeah. The hospital leant me one."  
  
"Good. Let's see how good you are." Dusty led him over to the centre of the room and took a step backwards. "Just a couple of steps will do."  
  
Hesitantly Scott took one step forward and then froze, paralysed with fear. "I-I can't. Not without help."  
  
"It's okay, Scott." She said reassuringly. "There's nothing in front of you. I won't let you hurt yourself."  
  
Scott swallowed and managed another step.  
  
"You're doing fine." She said. "Would you mind if I gave you a couple of pointers?   
  
"Please."  
  
"Sweep the cane from side to side just above the floor. You don't need to touch the floor, just have it high enough so that you will know if the way's clear or if there's an obstruction."  
  
"Okay." Timidly he took another step.  
  
***  
  
By the end of the session Scott was worn out, both mentally and physically. He took his father's arm and together they headed down to the canteen.  
  
"You were doing well." Jeff complimented him.  
  
"Thanks." Scott said quietly.  
  
Strangely Jeff was dreading the mealtime saga more than anything else. He was relieved when Dusty came and sat with them. "Time for lesson number two Scott." She explained. "Are you used to using an analogue watch?"  
  
"Yeah." He said, confused  
  
"Good. You've no idea what trouble I have with those who only use digitals. We're going to pretend that your plate is a clock."  
  
"Huh." His confusion was growing.  
  
She studied the meal that had been placed in front of him. "Okay. You have corn, meat, potatoes, carrots and beans. Now the corn is at 3 o'clock, meat at 7 o'clock, potatoes at 10 o'clock, the carrots at 6 o'clock and the beans are at twelve."  
  
The confusion cleared from his face. "Now I understand. We used the same sort of system in the Air Force."  
  
"Bandits at 3 o'clock? You've got it. Your glass is at 1 o'clock. Don't be afraid to ask for help. You've got both your father and me here."  
  
"Okay." As he smelt the freshly cooked food Scott suddenly realised that he was hungry. He hadn't had a proper meal since early yesterday. He took a stab at where he supposed the carrots would be and was pleased to feel the resistance as the vegetable yielded under his fork.  
  
Jeff smiled at Dusty as his son took his first tentative mouthful. 


	4. Thirty Five

Thirty Five - BF  
  
"How are you feeling today?" Dusty asked brightly. It was day two.  
  
"Fine." Scott gave his standard answer. He was starting to get used to the continuing blackness, but was struggling to reconcile himself to not being in control of his surroundings. His daily gamut of emotions ranged from acceptance to sadness to fear to anger. Both Dusty and Jeff had stoically borne the brunt of his outbursts. Both were more than willing to act as outlets to his frustrations.  
  
"I've set up an obstacle course for you today." Dusty told him.  
  
"Obstacle course?" Scott said faintly.  
  
"Nothing too tricky. Only three obstacles. There's a chair, a table and cardboard box. I've put a rope fence along the sides so that you keep within the course. See?" She placed his hand on the stand that held the rope.  
  
He nodded.  
  
She let go of his hand. "Now this isn't a race. Take your time." She stepped back  
  
With some trepidation and keeping his hand on the rope he felt about with his cane before gingerly taking a step forward.  
  
"That's good. Now let go of the rope."  
  
"Let go..." Scott paled.  
  
"You'll be okay, Scott." Jeff said. "Walk towards me."  
  
"Bet you didn't think you'd be teaching me to walk after all this time." Scott said without any humour in his voice. He released his grip on the rope, felt in front of him and took another step.  
  
"Great!" Jeff exclaimed. "Now the next one."  
  
This time the cane came in contact with an object. Scott traced its outline. It was the cardboard box. Slowly he tapped his way around it.  
  
"Well done." Dusty commented.  
  
Scott took another step and found himself pressed up against the rope. He adjusted his direction slightly. Two more steps and he found the table. He negotiated this by sliding his hand along the edge to keep track of his position.  
  
"Only the chair to go." Jeff said. "And you've done it."  
  
With slightly more confidence Scott took a step forward. His cane caught in the chair's leg. As he stepped to the side to release it, his own leg caught around a stand in the rope's fence and he overbalanced, falling towards the chair.  
  
Jeff stepped forward to catch his son as he saw him fall helplessly. He cringed as he saw Scott's head bang against the chair's arm.  
  
Scott let out an exclamation of pain as his burned face came in contact with the unyielding wood of the chair. He lay on the floor trying to fight against the feelings of pain and fear that coursed through his system. For an instant he was back in the dust filled corridor of Regnad Corporation.  
  
"Scott!" Jeff crouched beside him and assisted him into a sitting position.  
  
"M-My head." Scott gasped.  
  
Blood had begun to soak through the bandage.  
  
"I'll get the first aid kit." Dusty said. She raced over to the conveniently placed box that sat at the side of the room. She quickly removed the old bandage and placed a gauze pad over the wound. "It's okay. It's only a graze." She said reassuringly.  
  
"I can't do this." Scott cried. "I can't cope with this." He pulled his legs up and hugged his knees.  
  
"It's okay, Scott" Jeff tried to reassure him, dismayed at how his normally in control son appeared to be disintegrating before his eyes.   
  
"No it's not." Scott gulped. "I want to go home."  
  
"You can't, not yet..."  
  
"Please. Take me home!" Scott begged.  
  
"No Scott." It felt as if it were the hardest thing that Jeff had ever had to say. "No. We can't go home now. I'm sorry." He wrapped his arms around his son. For an instant he was back 25 years comforting his distraught child.   
  
"Then leave me alone!" Scott said heatedly pushing his father away. Still in a crouching position Jeff fell backwards onto the floor.  
  
Dusty was becoming worried about Scott's condition. Perhaps the blow to the head was worse than she'd realised. "Look after him." She ordered an extremely worried Jeff. "I'll go get help." He nodded his acknowledgement.  
  
She was back a short time later with a doctor in tow. Scott had calmed down somewhat and was allowing his father to comfort him.  
  
The doctor was all business. "Now then let's have a look at your face." He removed the temporary bandage. "That's fine. Just a graze. The skin's still healing and you knocked it." He replaced the bandage, did another couple of tests and then, when he was satisfied that there was nothing more serious to worry about, packed his bag and returned to his surgery.  
  
Scott wiped his eyes. "Can I at least go back to my room?"  
  
Jeff looked at Dusty questioningly.  
  
She nodded. "I think we've done enough for now. We'll do something else this afternoon. You did very well Scott. Tomorrow will be better."  
  
"Yeah sure." He sounded unconvinced. 


	5. Thirty Six

Thirty Six - BF  
  
They were sitting alone outside. Enjoying the last rays of the setting sun. They'd survived the first week in rehabilitation.  
  
"You should go home." Scott surprised Jeff by saying.  
  
"Home? I can't go home yet." His father exclaimed.  
  
"You're needed there. There's no one to take control if there's an emergency. It was always either you or me in charge."  
  
"But I can't leave you alone."  
  
"I'll be fine." Scott said quietly. He didn't sound convincing.  
  
"Scott..." Jeff started to protest, and then he stopped as an idea popped into his head. "Would you like Virgil to take my place here?"  
  
"Virgil?"  
  
"He's on sick leave at the moment anyway. He needs physio on that arm and there's a physiotherapist on site. If he's agreeable would you like him to come here and support you?"  
  
Scott smiled. It was the first smile Jeff had seen from him in a long time. "Yes. That'd be great."  
  
"Fine." Jeff grunted as he stood up. "I'll go phone him now."  
  
"Father!" Scott managed to catch his parent's arm as he walked past.   
  
"Scott?"  
  
"Thanks for everything. I know it hasn't been easy, but you've helped me survive this first week."  
  
Jeff laid a hand on Scott's shoulder. "That's okay son. If you ever need my help you only need to ask."  
  
Scott nodded. "It helps to know that."  
  
"It's always been true. I know I'm not the most demonstrative father..."  
  
"I've always known though. We all have. None of us could have asked for a better Dad."  
  
Jeff found himself overwhelmed by the statement. He squeezed Scott's shoulder and hurriedly left the porch. It wasn't until he was back in his room that he realised that his haste had been unwarranted.  
  
Scott wouldn't have been able to see the tears that had formed in his eyes...  
  
***  
  
"Hey there, Scott!"  
  
"Gordon? What are you doing here?"  
  
"Virgil still can't pilot the plane so I offered to bring him. Dad's just showing him around. So how's it going?"  
  
"Fine."  
  
Gordon looked at his oldest brother. Scott appeared to be pleased to 'see' him and yet... There was an air of fragility about Scott that Gordon had never seen in him before. "You've got some brilliant bruises there."  
  
"That's because I keep on bumping into things."  
  
"But apart from that how are you coping?"  
  
"Well... I'll tell you Gordon, I'd rather be piloting a crashing Fireflash at the moment."  
  
"And I'm not here to save you this time."  
  
Scott made a helpless gesture. "I just want to go home."  
  
"I can understand that, but the sooner you've got the basics mastered the sooner you'll be able to get home."  
  
Scott sighed. "I know. How is everyone?"  
  
"Missing you. We need you to boss us all around."  
  
"Now that Father's going home he can do it."  
  
"It'll be good to have him home..."  
  
Scott sensed that there was something missing from this sentence. "Why?"  
  
"'Cause it means Virgil'll be out of our hair. He keeps on trying to play his favourite pieces and getting frustrated because he can't play the treble and bass one handed. So he takes it out on us. At least you'll be able to keep him occupied."  
  
The anticipated chuckle from Scott wasn't forthcoming.  
  
"So..." Gordon said awkwardly. "How much longer do you have to stay here?"  
  
"Whatever it is it'll be too long..."  
  
***  
  
Jeff had given Virgil a quick tour of the complex. They ended up in the room that was going to be Virgil's for the next month or so.  
  
"Sit down son. I want to talk to you before we catch up with Scott and Gordon."  
  
Virgil frowned in concern. "What's wrong?"  
  
"I just want to prepare you for what you'll have to deal with. Scott's finding it hard. Very hard. You think he's coping and then he blows his top or breaks down completely." He explained about the highs and lows that they'd experienced over the previous few days. "I wouldn't even consider going home if it weren't for... the business," Virgil nodded his understanding, "and for the fact that you are going to be here to support him. I won't lie to you Virgil. You're going to find it hard. The instant it gets too much for you I want you to call me and talk to me. I don't care what time of the day or night it is. Call me! And if you need to come home, tell me. We can swap places again."  
  
Virgil nodded again. He didn't know how often he'd be on the phone to home over the next few days.  
  
"I'm sorry to lay all this on you. I wouldn't even consider it if hadn't been Scott's suggestion. And, I guess, you've got the best idea of all of us what Scott has been through."   
  
Virgil nodded a third time.   
  
There was a knock on the door and Jeff went to answer it. "Dusty. Come in. Virgil, this is Dusty, Scott's therapist. Dusty. This is my son Virgil."  
  
Virgil held out his hand. "Pleased to meet you."  
  
"Likewise." She said. "Scott's told me a lot about you."  
  
He appeared surprised. "He has?"  
  
She didn't elaborate. "If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask."   
  
*** 


	6. Thirty Seven

Thirty Seven - BF  
  
One week later Scott opened the door that connect their two rooms and walked in. It was the only part of the whole complex in which he felt comfortable getting around unaided. "You know," he said, "every time I come in here I expect to smell oil paints."  
  
"I didn't bring my paints." Virgil said flatly.  
  
"Oh! Did you bring your pastels then?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Crayons?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Pencils?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Virgil!" Scott was astounded. "Did you bring anything?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Why not?" Scott was amazed at this admission.  
  
"I just didn't want them that's all."  
  
"Is it your arm?"  
  
"No it's not!" Virgil said irritably. "But you've just reminded me that I've got a physio appointment soon. If you want me to take you where you should be we'd better leave now!"  
  
But Scott had decided he was going to find out what was wrong. "Then what's the problem?"  
  
"Nothing!"  
  
"Have you drawn or painted anything since the accident?"  
  
"I did in the hospital if you remember."  
  
"But since then?"  
  
"Scott! We're both going to be late if we don't leave now. Are you coming with me or do I leave you?  
  
Stunned, Scott said nothing further until they'd met up with Dusty.  
  
Virgil made his excuses and left.  
  
"I don't remember him mentioning a physiotherapy appointment this afternoon." Dusty noted.  
  
"No. Me neither." Scott admitted thoughtfully. "Dusty, you don't have to be here now do you? Would you mind doing me a favour...?"  
  
***  
  
Dusty found Virgil sitting in the garden. "I thought you had an appointment to go to?" she asked.  
  
He looked away. "I'd got the time wrong."  
  
"Scott was worried about you."  
  
"He shouldn't. He's got enough to worry about."  
  
  
  
"He seemed surprised that you haven't done any artwork since you left the hospital."  
  
Virgil eyed her angrily. "Has he got you acting as his detective now?"  
  
"Yes. But only because he cares about you and you clearly don't want to tell him what's bothering you."  
  
Virgil was silent.  
  
Dusty pondered her next move. "If I promise not to tell Scott will you tell me what's wrong?"  
  
He didn't speak.  
  
"Please. I'd like to help. Is it something to do with Scott?" She saw his jaw muscles tighten as he listened to her words, and decided to try another tack. "Scott tells me that you like to play the piano."  
  
"Yes I do." He said cautiously.  
  
"He says you're good."  
  
"He's biased."  
  
"You know there's a lot of people in this place who would really appreciate a good bit of piano playing. They've lost so much else, it's something they could still enjoy. Would you consider giving us a some sort of concert?"  
  
Virgil raised his injured arm. "I haven't been able to get in a lot a practise lately."  
  
"But would you consider it?"  
  
He looked at her. "Yeah I don't mind. Once I can fully use my fingers. That's if I can get in some practise and reassure myself that I won't be too embarrassing."  
  
Dusty smiled. "I'm sure we can arrange that." She looked down at the satchel that she'd placed beside her chair. "Scott told me to remind you that you weren't to blame yourself for what happened to him."  
  
  
  
Virgil smiled ruefully. "I know. Up here," he tapped his head, "I know that there's nothing more that I could have done. I wasn't even close when the... generator," For an instant a guarded expression crept over his face, "exploded. But down here." He moved his hand to his heart. "I keep wondering. Was there something else I should have done?"  
  
Dusty nodded in understanding, and then reverted back to the original topic. "So you're happy to play the piano... why won't you draw or paint anything?"  
  
Virgil looked at her angrily. "That again? Why should I bother? What's the use? What would I achieve? Who'd appreciated it? Scott won't be able too..." As he became aware of what he'd said he looked almost frightened.  
  
"Is that what worries you, Virgil?" Dusty asked quietly.   
  
He nodded sadly.  
  
"You are both very close aren't you?"   
  
He nodded again.  
  
"I thought so. That's why he wanted me to get you these." She reached into the satchel and pulled out a sketchpad and some artist's pencils. She held them out to Virgil.  
  
He looked at her, and then hesitatingly took them.  
  
"Virgil... I know it's hard for you, and everyone in your family. It's hard to watch someone you love struggle with things they used to do so easily. But believe me, he will find it easier eventually. At the moment he's finding everything strange and new and frustrating, but one day it will all seem natural to him. It'll either happen slowly, or suddenly, like a light bulb turning on. He'll learn to cope. His blindness will become a natural part of his life, both to him and to you. In the meantime he doesn't want you to give up on what is important to you."  
  
Virgil looked down at the sketchpad and slowly turned the cover over so that top page lay exposed. He gave a quiet chuckle. "So he's still mothering me is he?" He looked at her and noted a questioning expression on her face. He began to sharpen a pencil. "What do you know about Scott's history?"  
  
"When it came to talking about his brothers, Scott was very... voluble." Dusty told him. "But when it came to talking about himself he didn't have much to say. He couldn't even think of what hobbies he had."  
  
"What did he say?" Virgil began to draw.  
  
"Chess, the gym and flying."  
  
"Oh, so he doesn't count bossing his brothers around as a hobby then?" Virgil was grinning as he drew a couple of sweeping lines on his pad.  
  
Dusty smiled. "Does he do that a lot?"  
  
Virgil laughed. "He probably regards it as a calling rather than a hobby. He's had to do it since he was a kid."  
  
"Had to?"  
  
Virgil stopped drawing. "I'm holding you up here. Shouldn't you be working?"  
  
"Knowing about my clients is part of my work. If I know how they tick, then I have a better chance of helping them. At the moment I don't have to be anywhere else, so tell me about Scott."  
  
Virgil thought for a moment, began drawing again, and started to speak. "Well you know there's five of us boys, and that Scott's the oldest." Dusty nodded. "We were all kids when Ma died... It was an accident... Alan was only a baby." She saw the sadness of the memory in his eyes. "Father had to give up being an astronaut..."  
  
"A what?"  
  
"An astronaut."  
  
"A real astronaut?"  
  
"Yeah. He went to the moon and everything." Virgil laughed.  
  
"You're laughing at me." She protested.  
  
"No I'm not. In our family our father was an astronaut. He was just a part of our family. You forget that most other people aren't related to astronauts. Sorry that I laughed, I just realised how silly it is that some jobs are more 'special' than others. For our family it was just another job."  
  
"Makes sense." Dusty said. "Go on."  
  
"He realised that it wasn't ideal for an astronaut to be a solo dad to five boys so he gave up his job. Those first years must have been hard for him. I don't think we boys ever knew just how hard. He had to find work that allowed him to earn enough to keep us all fed and housed as well as giving him time to look after us all. Scott saw the difficulties and started taking care of us as well. He'd make sure we were ready for school on time, had our lunches, did our homework. By the time Grandma came to live with us I think it was ingrained into Scott's psyche that he had to look out for the rest of us. Remember Alan was still a baby and Gordon wasn't much older, John had his head in the stars and I was always covered in paint!"  
  
"You've always been artistic then." She'd noticed that he'd started to relax now that was allowing himself to be creative.  
  
Virgil nodded. "Scott did well at school, both academically and on the sports field, but he always wanted to fly. He wanted to be just like our father and join the Air Force."  
  
"Did he want to be an astronaut too?"  
  
"I don't think so. He just wanted to fly planes, the faster and more manoeuvrable the better."  
  
"Did he join the Air Force?"  
  
"Yeah. He became quite high ranking too."  
  
"So why did he leave?"  
  
There was that guarded expression again. She'd noticed that all the Tracy's got that expression when they talked about their present lives. "He decided to work for our Father."  
  
"Being a pilot."  
  
"Among other things, yes." Virgil clammed up.  
  
Dusty sat for a moment in thought. She couldn't quite make out this family. They appeared close and yet no one had come to visit Scott. Perhaps Jeff Tracy believed that the business should come first in their lives. She dismissed that idea. While he'd been here supporting Scott he'd been attentive of his son. There'd been no clock watching, fidgeting or worrying about how things were going at work. Scott had been his only concern.  
  
Then there was the strange fact that here were five extremely eligible young men. Handsome, personable, sons of a billionaire, and yet none of them were married or even in serious relationships, although Scott had hinted about something between the youngest and their friends daughter. Maybe Jeff Tracy felt that no one was good enough for his boys. She rejected that idea too, feeling that Scott, at least, would have stood up for himself and would probably have supported his brothers if they'd found any romantic attachments. Maybe the five men just enjoyed the playboy lifestyle, being free and easy. As she looked at Virgil she rejected that idea too, and clocked it up to one of the great mysteries of life.  
  
"So now that he works for your Father what does Scott do to relax?"  
  
"Relax?" Virgil smiled as he thought. "Play chess, work out in the gym..."  
  
"Fly planes." She finished off. "He must do something else surely."  
  
"Work keeps, kept..." for the first time Virgil used the past tense, "him busy."  
  
"But you work for your father too and you find time to play the piano and paint."  
  
"You've got to remember that our father is a billionaire and that he worked hard to get there. We've all inherited something of his work ethic." There was nothing bragging in Virgil's tone. It was uttered as a simple fact. "But we live in a place that you'd expect a billionaire to live in - pool, tennis courts, games room. We've got plenty to keep us occupied when we're not working. Scott keeps himself busy with plenty of variety, but nothing that you could pin down as a 'hobby'."  
  
"Oh." Dusty said. "I see. It's good that he has such varied interests. With a bit of equipment modification there's no reason why he shouldn't continued to enjoy them." She looked at her watch. "I'd better go get ready for my next session." She watched him finish his drawing and wondered once again about the Tracy's. Then she gave herself a shake mentally, it was none of her business. Her job wasn't to understand this family. Her job was to give Scott Tracy his life back.  
  
Virgil looked at his sketch. "It's not one of my best works. It would have been better if I'd done it left handed, but..." he signed it with a flourish, tore the page off and handed it to Dusty. "Give it to your husband so that he remembers what you look like while you're here all hours."  
  
She gasped as she looked at the picture. It was of her. She hadn't even realised he'd been observing her as he did the drawing. "I-I don't know what do say. If this isn't one of your best then your best must be wonderful... Thank you."  
  
He smiled. "No. Thank you!" 


	7. Thirty Eight

Thirty Eight - BF  
  
  
  
Over the past two weeks Virgil had discovered that he had three outlets for when things got too much for him. Drawing, playing the piano and calling home.   
  
The past few days the third option had become a lifeline.  
  
The call he made at lunchtime on day 14 had been after an especially trying morning.  
  
Jeff Tracy answered the phone with a smile. Unfortunately Virgil hadn't been able to return the gesture.  
  
"What's wrong son?"  
  
Virgil looked as devastated as he had been when they'd first learnt that Scott's condition was permanent. "Nothing." He said quietly. "I just wanted to say hi."  
  
"Was it a tough morning?"  
  
Virgil nodded. "He's getting angrier and angrier and more and more frustrated."  
  
"And he's taking it out on you?"  
  
"It's what I'm here for."  
  
"No you're not. You're there to help him. What did he do?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
This was going to be as hard as getting blood from a stone. "What did he say, Virgil?"  
  
"It doesn't matter."  
  
Jeff was glad that none of his other sons were in the room at the moment. "Come on Virgil." He said gently. "Tell me."  
  
Virgil hesitated. He looked to be on the brink of tears. "I'm being over-sensitive."  
  
Jeff waited. Virgil clearly wanted to share what was worrying him, hence the phone call. But something was holding him back. Jeff waited patiently.  
  
"He said that he was glad that he'd lost his sight."  
  
This was a surprise. "Why?"  
  
Virgil swallowed. What he was about to say would probably hurt his father too. "Because it meant that he didn't have to look at me and be reminded of Ma, and remember that it was my fault that she was killed."  
  
Jeff cringed inwardly. Of all the things to come out with, this was the worst. Insult one of Virgil's paintings and he would have passed it off as being a comment from someone who didn't understand what he was trying to express. Make a negative comment about his music and Virgil would have assumed that you didn't have a musical ear. Doubt his sexuality (as had happened occasionally in the past) and he would have laughed and offered you the phone numbers of several girls who would have said otherwise. Say he'd failed during a rescue and he would have agreed and worked to make sure the error didn't happen again.  
  
Nothing upset Virgil and yet Scott had managed to hit on the one nerve that was raw. As he no doubt had meant to.  
  
He could now understand why Virgil looked so devastated. "The accident wasn't your fault, Virgil. We've discussed this."  
  
"I know. I also know that he didn't mean it. It's not so much that he said it, it's that he even thought of it to say it!" He grimaced. "I'm not making myself very clear."  
  
"Don't worry, you're clear enough." Jeff was grim faced. "I don't care how badly he's feeling, he has no right to talk to you like that. Maybe I should come out there and you could come home..."  
  
He was not surprised when Virgil dismissed this suggestion. "No it's okay. With any luck we've hit rock bottom and things will start getting better."  
  
They were both silent for a moment.  
  
The connecting door opened and Scott entered the room hesitantly. "Are you in here, Virgil?"  
  
Virgil wiped his eyes and tried to get his emotions under control. When he spoke his voice was nearly normal, if slightly cool. "Yeah I'm here. What can I do for you?" He didn't tell his brother that their father was on the phone.  
  
Scott's ears picked up on the fact that Virgil's voice was only nearly normal. "I, uh, you didn't come down to lunch."  
  
"I didn't feel like having anything." Virgil admitted.  
  
"Rough morning."  
  
"Yeah." Virgil agreed.  
  
There was silence during which Jeff wondered if he should disconnect the phone call or alert Scott to his presence.  
  
"We'll be starting the afternoon session soon." Scott said uncomfortably.  
  
"Yes." Virgil agreed again.  
  
"Are you going to join us?"  
  
The look on Virgil's face told Jeff that this idea didn't appeal. "Of course."   
  
"I appreciate that, Virgil. I'm glad you're here with me."  
  
"I said I wouldn't leave you."  
  
"I, uh, I don't deserve your support."  
  
"No you don't." Virgil agreed in a whisper. The words tore at Jeff's heart.  
  
"No I don't" Scott echoed in agreement. "I'm sorry about what I said, you know, about Ma. I didn't mean it."  
  
"I know."  
  
"It must have hurt."  
  
"It did." Virgil said honestly.  
  
A look of anguish flashed over Scott's face. "Please forgive me?" he begged. "I've got no excuse. I was hurting and I wanted someone else to feel the same as I did. You don't deserve that treatment with all you're doing for me. Father would kill me if he knew I'd said that to you... Have you told him?"  
  
"Yes."   
  
Scott paled. "I bet he was livid."  
  
'Tell him Virgil.' Jeff thought. 'Tell him his father is ready to give him such a bawling out, the likes of which he's never had before. Tell him he can't get away with what he said to you."  
  
"He wasn't very happy." Virgil said quietly.   
  
"I'm sure he wasn't."  
  
Virgil glanced at his father's image. Jeff's face was sombre.  
  
"I've made things worse haven't I?" Scott was asking, interpreting Virgil's silence as a signal that their relationship had cooled. "Now you hate me."  
  
"I don't hate you."  
  
"Yes you do. And I don't blame you. I hate me too."  
  
"I don't hate you, Scott."  
  
"Well I do. I hate the way I am, I hate what I've become, I hate the fact that I tried to hurt you. And I especially hate the fact that I succeeded."  
  
There was an uncomfortable silence. Jeff felt a sneeze coming on and pushed the mute button on his videophone. He was just in time.  
  
Gordon breezed in. "Have you seen Alan?" he asked brightly.  
  
"No!" Jeff snapped irritably. "Look Gordon I'm in the middle of an important 'phone call. If you wouldn't mind..."  
  
"Yeah sure." Gordon said cheerfully, not minding his fathers sour mood. "I'll go see if he's in the hanger." He ambled out of the room.  
  
Jeff turned his attention back to the video image on the phone in front of him. Nothing had changed.  
  
"Why is everything so hard, Virgil?" Scott suddenly asked. "I used to be able to do everything so easily, and now..."  
  
***  
  
They hadn't yet hit rock bottom.  
  
When they did, it would be painful for them both.  
  
*** 


	8. Thirty Nine

Thirty Nine - BF  
  
Dusty met them cheerfully, but warily. She'd seen how the Scott's unfeeling comment had hurt Virgil. Scott had said those hateful words and Virgil had instantly stalked out of the room. He hadn't heard Scott call the apology after him. She'd noted Virgil's absence from the canteen at lunchtime and Scott's lack of appetite. She was glad to see them working together again, but noticed that the younger man was a little distant from his brother. She hoped that this afternoon's session would ease the tension between them.  
  
"This obstacle course is a little trickier." She told them. "We've got smaller objects lying about the floor and there are various delicate objects on the larger pieces of furniture. I'm not going to tell you what there is or how many items Scott. You're going to have to figure it out for yourself."  
  
Scott didn't look happy about the challenge.  
  
Virgil surveyed the course. The ubiquitous rope fence was still there, but now instead of following a straight path it curved to the right and back against itself. The obstacles ranged in size from a couple of tables and chairs, to smaller items such as footstools and small cardboard boxes. The 'delicate objects' consisted of what looked to be three plastic vases on each table. He put his feeling of unease down to what had happened earlier.  
  
Dusty led Scott to the beginning. "Ready when you are."  
  
He nodded and took a step forward. The first few steps were fairly easy. Then he came to a table. Wary of the 'delicate objects' that sat on it he tried to give it a wide berth. He wasn't expecting to find a footstool so close and fell over it heavily, landing on one knee with a jarring thud.   
  
Virgil automatically took a step forward to assist and was held back by Dusty. "No. Let him do it himself."  
  
Scott heard her. Yet again anger and frustration welled up inside him. He staggered to his feet and kicked the footstool away.  
  
"Scott!" Virgil exclaimed.  
  
"You heard her!" Scott snapped. "You're to let me do this myself. I'm coping the best way that I can. Who cares if I get hurt or if I hurt you? I'm useless at this. I'm useless at everything I try."  
  
"No you're not, Scott." Dusty protested.  
  
"Yes I am! I can't even dress myself! Something as easy as that and I can't manage it without help! How many times did you have to help me this morning Virgil?"  
  
"Only three..."  
  
"Three times! That's three times too many. And what about meals? Another simple task and yet I can't eat anything without spilling something onto my clothes, and then it's back to get changed again. Back to needing help getting dressed! Do you know how humiliating that is? When we were kids I used to have to help you Virgil, it shouldn't have to be the other way around now!"  
  
"I don't mind..."  
  
"But I do! I don't want to be reliant on others!" Scott shouted.  
  
"You won't forever." Dusty tried to reassure him. "You will learn."  
  
"Forever! Forever trapped. A misfit in a sighted world. You should have left me when this first happened, Virgil. You should have saved yourself and then maybe you wouldn't have broken your arm! You should have left me to drown! When I told you to go on without me you should have obeyed me! I gave you an order!" He was starting to get hysterical.  
  
Virgil glanced worriedly at Dusty. This was getting too close to International Rescue. "I couldn't..."  
  
Scott was continuing with his tirade. It was as if he hadn't heard his brother speak. "Here I am and I can't even walk safely around a table! A table! I used to be able to fly a plane in ways most people couldn't even dream of! I've flown at speeds faster than most people can comprehend! And now I can't even negotiate my way across a room!"   
  
"Calm down Scott." Virgil said anxiously.  
  
Scott flung his arm out and it struck against the table causing the vases to rattle. "Are you sure you can even trust me around such delicate objects, Dusty? Don't you realise that I destroy things that are precious. Things like friendships! I might break one of your delicate objects!" He found a vase and picked it up. "Just like this!" He dashed the vase to the ground. It didn't break, merely rolling away under the rope. This made him angrier. "I can't even do that properly!" He found another vase and threw it against the far wall.  
  
"Scott!" Virgil said in alarm. "Stop!" and ducked as the third vase came sailing with great force in his direction. "You'll hurt someone if you carry on like this."  
  
"Hurt someone! What about me? How many bruises and grazes and sore knees do I have to get before someone says enough? Doesn't it matter that I'm hurting all the time? Both body and soul? Well I've had enough!" With a yell and a martial arts kick that he should have been proud of, the table splintered into pieces. He picked a larger piece up and threw it, not caring where it went or who it hit. Fortunately it sailed wide of the two extremely worried and somewhat frightened people.  
  
"I'm going to get help." Dusty whispered to Virgil before she slipped out of the room. The sound of the door closing behind her was enough of a guide that Scott was able to hurl a piece of wood accurately in that direction. It crashed against the door and clattered to the floor.  
  
Virgil knew he'd have to do something before someone was injured. "Scott," he begged. "Please calm down." He was rewarded by having a table leg thrown in his direction.   
  
When Scott turned his attention to demolishing a footstool Virgil decided that it was time to take some action. He pulled down the rope barrier and stepped quickly up to his brother, deftly avoiding another lethal piece of wood. He grabbed Scott by both arms. "Stop it!" he ordered.  
  
Although he now wore a smaller cast that gave him use of his left hand, the strength in that hand wasn't enough to restrain an irate older brother. Scott freed his right arm and swung his fist into Virgil's face.   
  
Virgil hit the floor and lay there stunned.  
  
The horror of what he'd done sunk into Scott's angry brain. He knelt beside his brother. "Virgil! Virgil, I'm sorry. Are you alright?" He reached out anxiously.  
  
Virgil sat up groggily and felt his face. "That's quite a right hook you've got there, brother." He flinched as Scott gingerly laid his hand against the injury.  
  
Scott was dismayed at the swelling that he could feel around Virgil's eye. "I'm really sorry. Let me get you an ice pack." He stood and made his way over to where he knew the first aid kit resided. He managed to find two ice packs and brought them back to where Virgil was still sitting. He placed one against the affected area, holding it in place.   
  
Virgil took it from him. "It's okay. I've got it."  
  
"I'm really sorry." Scott took the other pack and laid it over his own knuckles. "I can't believe I did that to you. I hurt you this morning and I've hurt you now. I'm sorry."  
  
"It's okay."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Stop apologising, Scott. I'm okay."  
  
The door was cautiously opened. Dusty entered followed by the doctor. He took in the mess. "Are you both okay?"  
  
"I hit Virgil." Scott said sadly.  
  
"So you did." The doctor was looking underneath Virgil's ice pack. "Quite a good shot too, by the looks of it."  
  
"I didn't duck quick enough." Virgil said lightly, and flinched again as the doctor examined a cut to his eyelid.  
  
"I'm sorry, Virgil." Scott sounded really miserable now.  
  
"I know you are Scott. You don't have to keep telling me."  
  
"I think I've damaged a couple of things."  
  
"Yes you have." Dusty agreed with him. "But we won't worry about that just now."  
  
Scott turned to her voice. "I'm sorry, Dusty."   
  
"Scott." Virgil said quietly. "Do you realise what you've just done?"  
  
"Hit you. I'm sorry."  
  
"No I didn't mean that. You helped me just then, with no instructions. You got the ice pack without anyone's help."  
  
"I did?" Scott sounded surprised. "Oh yeah. So I did."  
  
"See. You're not helpless Scott." Dusty told him. "I know you are frustrated, but you are not helpless. You will learn. Maybe you're just trying too hard at the moment."  
  
"Yeah. Maybe. Can I try again?" Scott ignored the doctor, who was checking his hand before placing the ice pack back on it.  
  
"What? Now?"  
  
"Yes now. Don't they say that if you fall off a horse you should get straight back on?"  
  
"Yes but..."  
  
"Please." Scott begged.  
  
"Okay. But let me get rid of some of the debris first."  
  
Scott managed a little laugh. "You call that debris? A few bits of furniture? That's nothing. Right Virg?"  
  
Virgil chuckled. "Right Scott."  
  
Neither of them elaborated to either Dusty or the doctor.  
  
The latter stood up. "Well no real harm done. If you have any problems with that eye Virgil let me know, but I think you'll be okay."  
  
Virgil stood also. "Thanks Doc."  
  
"Well I guess that's all." The doctor looked at Dusty. "Do you want me to stay?" he fingered his bag lightly.  
  
She shook her head. "No. I think we'll be fine this time."  
  
***  
  
Later that evening Virgil made his nightly phone call home. He smiled when his father answered the videophone.  
  
Jeff had stayed close to the phone all afternoon in case Virgil had needed to talk to him again. He hadn't known what to expect and what he saw was a shock. His eyes widened as he took in Virgil's bloodshot eye, his bruised swollen skin, and the steri-strip that held the edges of the cut together. "What happened to you!?"  
  
"Scott punched me." Virgil told him truthfully.  
  
Jeff waited. Despite the shock of the lunchtime phone call this was too hard to believe. "Okay. Now what really happened?"  
  
"He did! Scott hit me. With his fist."  
  
Jeff was struggling to get his mind around this. "It was an accident, right?"  
  
"No. He meant to do it."  
  
Now Jeff was worried. "Is he alright? Are you alright? Do you want to come home?"  
  
"No. Everything's okay."  
  
Alan had been listening to the conversation. He walked around his father's chair so that he could see the videophone screen. He gave a whistle and then a little grin. "So did you hit him back?"  
  
"Alan! When a guy as powerful as Scott hits you, you don't get the chance to retaliate! I was down for the count and seeing enough stars to keep John happy for a year!"  
  
"Virgil." Jeff said patiently. "What happened?"  
  
Virgil explained about the incident. "Dusty even went to get the doctor to sedate him so he wouldn't hurt himself or anyone else."  
  
"He hurt you though!" Jeff sounded angry.  
  
"Actually I'm kinda glad he did." Virgil admitted.  
  
"What!" Jeff was flummoxed.  
  
"Oh yes." Alan smirked. "Is this some kind of masochistic tendency of yours we didn't know about Virgil?"  
  
His brother chuckled. "No nothing like that. I just mean that the shock of hitting me brought him back to his senses. And what's more, he took control. Found the first aid kit without any trouble. Well he's had enough experience needing it that you'd expect him to know where it was. But he got out two ice packs, walked back to me, and put an ice pack on my eye. He wasn't thinking about what he was doing, he was thinking about what needed to be done. And he did it! With no help!"  
  
There was a knock on the connecting door before Scott poked his head in. "Are you decent?" he asked flippantly.   
  
"Come in Scott. I'm on the 'phone to home. Do you want to say hi to Father and Alan?"  
  
They were unsure of what the answer would be. Scott hadn't being willing to talk to his family since he'd gone into rehabilitation.  
  
"Why not." He said. "Hi Father."  
  
"Hi Scott." Jeff decided that he would try not to be angry with his eldest. "How are you?"  
  
"Not bad." Jeff was pleased that the standard phrase 'fine' was not used. "How are you Alan?"  
  
"Great." Alan replied. "I see you've been getting in a little boxing practise with Virgil."  
  
Scott cringed at the reminder. "Does he look that bad."  
  
"I've seen him worse..." Scott relaxed. "But only after he'd fallen down a river bank, broken his arm, got hypothermia and nearly drowned."  
  
"Oh." Scott said quietly.  
  
"What happened son?" Jeff asked.  
  
Scott sighed. "I don't know. Dusty had made the obstacle course more of a challenge than I was used to. I tripped over a footstool and then heard her tell Virgil not to help me. And then I guess I lost it. As I think Virgil told you..." he looked embarrassed, "...I'd made a bad mistake at this morning's session and this just capped it off. I felt sore and frustrated and humiliated and out of control. And I just blew my top."  
  
Jeff decided not to mention the 'bad mistake'.  
  
"I'll tell you one thing Scott." Virgil was standing beside the videophone. "There's nothing wrong with your hearing. You were deadly accurate with most of your throws. I had to be pretty quick on my feet to escape being hit..." he gingerly fingered his sore face, "... Well I was most of the time."  
  
"I'm sorry Virgil."   
  
Virgil laughed and rubbed Scott on the back. "I know you are. You don't have to keep telling me. Anyway you cleaned up on the obstacle course afterwards. I think that must have been some kind of record."  
  
Jeff looked over to the doorway when he heard a sound. "Gordon! Would you like a word with Scott?"  
  
"Can I?" Gordon sounded surprised. "Hey Scott, how's it going?"  
  
"Not too bad."  
  
"You've got less bruises than you had last time I saw you. Things must be getting better..." then Gordon's gaze wandered over to Virgil and his expression changed to one of surprise. "Or are you just getting Virgil to do the hard work for you? What happened to you?"  
  
Scott reddened.  
  
"I walked into a cupboard door." Virgil lied. "Get Alan to explain it to you later."  
  
"Are things getting any easier, Scott?" Jeff asked.  
  
Scott screwed up his face. "Not everything. There's some things I still have a heck of a lot of trouble doing." Then his face lit up. "I'll tell you one thing I achieved though," he said proudly. "I managed to change my shirt tonight without any help."  
  
Virgil saw Alan open his mouth to make a comment and gave his youngest brother a warning glare. Alan closed his mouth again.  
  
"That's good son." Jeff was saying. "You're making progress then."  
  
"Yeah. Except that the reason why I had to change it was because I managed to spill my dinner onto the old one. I'm doing okay with most things, but I just can't get the hang of eating peas. They keep on rolling off, and when they're coated in mint sauce you've got no chance of keeping clean. I've got a heck of a big laundry bill."  
  
"Mush your peas up." Gordon suggested. "At least they wouldn't be able to roll then."  
  
"That's a thought." Scott said. "I might try that next time." He changed the subject. "How's things at home. Have you had any call outs?"  
  
"Things have been quiet, thank heavens." His father replied...  
  
***  
  
Much later, after that 'phone call, Jeff was finishing up for the night. The rest of the family had already retired to bed. He jumped when he heard the familiar beeping sound. Instinctively he looked towards John's portrait. His son's immobile features smiled down at him.  
  
He realised that the sound and accompanying flashing lights were actually coming from Lady Penelope's portrait.  
  
"Evening Penny. Have you had a good holiday?"  
  
"Wonderful, thank you Jeff. Parker and I had a most relaxing time..."  
  
He realised with a jolt that she didn't even know. No one outside of the immediate family group knew of the turmoil that had occurred to this family over the last few weeks. Jeff suddenly realised that he would actually have to tell people of Scott's disability.  
  
'Disability'. One word. One word that, rightly or wrongly, changed your perspective of a person. Scott had always been so... able. And now there were things that he was no longer able to do, that he would never be able to do again. Disabled. It seemed a crime to pin such a label to him, but such a label would inevitably be assigned.  
  
Who needed to know? There were a few extended family members, Scott's Air Force buddies, old school friends... Agents. International Rescue agents would have to be told. Some who were good friends should be told personally but others... he would have to compose and send out a worldwide memo to the vast network of agents that worked for International Rescue.  
  
"... and so, after we convinced the authorities that Parker's tools were not intended for breaking into the safe, but rather for some domestic chores at Margery's manor, we decided that it would be prudent to head home. So here I am. Rested and ready for your next challenge..." Lady Penelope paused. "Jeff! I do believe you haven't heard a word I've said!"  
  
He suddenly realised that she'd been talking and he hadn't taken in a word. "Sorry Penny." He said ashamedly. "What did you say?  
  
"I said I'm ready for any challenges. What's wrong?"  
  
"Um. We've had a challenging few weeks ourselves."  
  
She studied his face. He looked older than his years. Drawn, preoccupied and tired. Normally he was a good listener, but this time he'd practically ignored her. Something was wrong. Very wrong.  
  
"Jeff?" she prompted. "What's happened? Is it the boys? I didn't hear about any rescues on the news."  
  
He nodded slowly and she prepared herself for the worst. "It wasn't reported. It was in a top secret facility." He gave her a brief rundown of the events of a month ago. "They both nearly drowned and were suffering from hypothermia when they were rescued."  
  
'Nearly' and 'rescued'. She latched onto those words with relief. "How are they?"  
  
She saw sadness in his eyes. "Virgil's arm was pretty badly broken, but it's on the mend."  
  
"And Scott?"  
  
He appeared to be struggling. "The burns to his face are healing..."  
  
"Yes?" Whatever he was about to say must be serious.  
  
"Penny! He's lost his sight. He can't see."  
  
She caught her breath. "Is it... is it permanent?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
"Oh, Jeff. How's he taking it?"  
  
"Hard. He's still in rehabilitation. Virgil's there to support him, but he's even striking out at him! I don't know Penny. I'm really worried. I'm worried about both of them. Virgil's doing his best, but I can see that he's finding it a struggle. And Scott... He's normally so in control and now that he's losing that control..."  
  
She understood. "Do you think he'd like me to visit him?"  
  
"I don't know. Virgil calls home at least once a day, but I've only spoken to Scott once since I left, and that was tonight. He seemed fairly cheerful but..." He shrugged helplessly. "Scott said he didn't want us to visit so that we wouldn't leave International Rescue understaffed, but he hasn't tried to contact his brothers at all. It's as if he's pushing us all away."  
  
"Well I'm not family. He might react differently to me. Where is the facility? Parker and I can fly there tomorrow..."  
  
She got the necessary details and bid him a fond good night. "Keep positive Jeff. It will get better."   
  
She sat in thought a moment before gracefully reaching out and gently pulling on the bell pull.  
  
"You rang M'lady?"  
  
"Yes Parker. I've just had a rather disturbing phonecall."  
  
"H-it wasn't the cops, ah, h-authorities was h-it? They didn't see too 'appy at our sudden departure." He said anxiously.  
  
"No Parker. It wasn't the police. It was Mr Tracy."  
  
"Mr Tracy, M'lady?"  
  
"I'm afraid there's been an accident."  
  
"An accident? Not to one of them Tracy boys?"  
  
"I'm afraid so, Parker. It appears Scott has been blinded."  
  
"Blinded! Blimey. That's not good, M'lady."  
  
"No Parker. Not good at all. We shall fly out tomorrow to offer him support." She gave him the details. "Arrange it will you."  
  
"Yes, M'lady."  
  
***  
  
Later that evening Virgil told Dusty about much of his 'phone call home. For the first time, in a long time, he was starting to feel positive about the future. "You know. I think that light bulb you were talking about might have been switched on..." 


	9. Forty

Forty - BF  
  
It was morning on Tracy Island. Time for breakfast. Jeff Tracy was walking down the hallway from his bedroom to the dining room.  
  
As he passed Alan's room he became aware of voices inside.  
  
"You've deliberately put that in my way haven't you!"  
  
"Put what in your way, Gordon?"  
  
"This - this thing..."  
  
Jeff cautiously pushed the door further open and looked inside. His two youngest sons were in there and both were blindfolded. Gordon looked as if he was trying to leave the room via the wardrobe and Alan was standing in the middle with his arms outstretched.  
  
"What are you two doing?" Jeff asked.  
  
They both jumped. "Dad."  
  
"Well?"  
  
"We got to thinking about how proud Scott was about changing his shirt yesterday." Alan said. "I mean it's such a simple task. So we thought we'd give it a go... See how difficult it really is for him."  
  
"Take your blindfolds off." Jeff instructed them gently.  
  
Sheepishly they complied and then burst out laughing. Gordon was wearing odd socks and his shirt was done up with 'too many buttons one side, not enough button holes the other.'  
  
Alan looked down at his own clothing. "Gee, I was sure I was putting on my red jersey and white shirt," he said as he gazed at his clashing bright purple and orange ensemble.  
  
Gordon stepped forward and pulled at the jersey at his brother's throat revealing the label. "Not only that, you've got it on back to front."  
  
Jeff smiled. "If you want to see what Scott's going through, how about doing it properly?"  
  
They gave him their full attention.  
  
"We'll make it an International Rescue training session." Jeff suggested. "Only you'll take it in turns. This way you'll also learn what you need to do to help him."  
  
They nodded in agreement.  
  
"Okay. Alan, you can be blindfolded first." Although he was sure that Gordon would respect the fact that it was a training session, Jeff wanted to ensure that the redhead didn't decide to try any funny business. "You can do this morning's session, including breakfast. You can swap over before lunch and Gordon can do the afternoon shift. We'll discuss your findings over dinner. It'll also give us the opportunity to discover if there are any alterations to the house that we'll need to make before Scott comes home. Are you both happy with this?"  
  
"Sure." Alan said as he removed his purple jersey and replaced it with a cream one. "Blindfold me Gordon."  
  
"Wait a minute." Jeff said. "Do you want to use a cane?"  
  
"A cane?" Alan asked.  
  
"Scott's learning to use one."  
  
"Oh well. If Scott's using one, then we should too." Gordon said. "Do we have one?"  
  
"I'll find you something you can use." Jeff offered. "But first I'll go and tell the others what you're up to. You should be able to make your way to the dining room without too much trouble."  
  
"Okay." Gordon said, grabbed Alan's arm and proceeded to drag him towards the door.  
  
"Hang on Gordon!" Jeff said. "Let Alan take your arm. That's better. And don't go so quickly remember he's new to this... and that it'll be your turn this afternoon."  
  
"Yeah." Alan said. "So watch it. Remember I've got a good memory."  
  
***  
  
It was with more than a little relief at lunchtime, that Alan removed the blindfold and handed it to Gordon. "Hey! No cheating! I couldn't see where everything was at breakfast." He tried to shield his brother's eyes from the dining table.  
  
"Okay, okay." Gordon grumbled and allowed the blindfold to cover his eyes. "Is this as hard as it looked?"  
  
"Harder." Alan said cheerfully.  
  
"Great!" Gordon said flatly.  
  
Alan was examining his shins. "Look at the bruises! I'm sure you steered me into things on purpose."  
  
"No I didn't." Gordon said defensively.  
  
"Yeah, sure." Alan clearly didn't believe him.  
  
Gordon was starting to get worried. "Alan. Honest. I didn't."  
  
Jeff took pity on him. "I'm sure he didn't Alan. I gave Scott several bruises myself when I was leading him around, and I'll guarantee that Virgil's done the same. We've got to learn as much as Scott has. You've got to try to remember that you're seeing for two people, not only yourself."  
  
Gordon was trying to make his sandwich. "Where's the bread?"  
  
"At 10 o-clock." Jeff said automatically.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Jeff explained. "The butter's at 2 o-clock."  
  
Gordon attempted to butter his sandwich and succeeded in digging a hole through the bread. "Where's the jam."  
  
"Here." Alan held it out to him. "I've got it here at 3 o-clock."  
  
"It'll be 3 o-clock by the time I've got the thing made." Gordon said glumly.  
  
"What's your hurry?" Alan asked chirpily. "You got a hot date or something?"  
  
Gordon managed to get his sandwich made, picked it up to take a bite and then groaned as he felt something land in his lap. "What was that?"  
  
"That was your jam." Alan informed him. "It fell through the hole in your bread."  
  
"Hole? What hole?"  
  
"The one you put in when you were... Oh, never mind. Would you like me to make you a sandwich?" Alan offered.  
  
"Please."  
  
***  
  
By dinnertime Gordon was not in a good mood. "Did you have to take me on a tour of all the hangers, Alan?" He moaned as he ripped off the blindfold and rubbed his eyes.  
  
"Dad said we had to find anywhere Scott could run into difficulties."  
  
"You enjoyed seeing me fall over! I could hear you laughing." Gordon said grumpily. "Dad. There's a killer step leading from Thunderbird Two's hanger..."  
  
"It was Thunderbird One's." Alan told him.  
  
"Well it must have been at least a metre in height."  
  
"You'd be lucky if it was a centimetre."  
  
"Okay. I'll check it out later." Jeff said.  
  
"So what was the worst bit?" Tin-Tin asked.  
  
"The first time Gordon left me alone..."  
  
Jeff frowned at Gordon.  
  
"Well a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do," Gordon shrugged, "and there are limits to brotherly love."  
  
Alan continued on. "It was so disorientating. I wasn't sure where I was and I couldn't hear anything. It's amazing how silent this house can be. It was as if I was the only person left on Earth. I suddenly realised how much I miss Virgil's piano playing."  
  
"For me it was when I went for a swim." Gordon admitted. They stared at him. "Alan guided me to the deep end and I figured I could dive in no problem."  
  
"And..." Grandma Tracy prompted him.  
  
"There was a problem. I surfaced and suddenly realised I didn't know how far I was away from the edge. I had this sudden impression that I was in the middle of the ocean and miles from land. For a moment I just wanted to rip off the blindfold... But I didn't..."  
  
"What stopped you?" Jeff asked.  
  
"Scott doesn't have a blindfold." Gordon said quietly. "It sure must be hard for him..."  
  
***  
  
A day later and the receptionist was looking at the woman before her in awe. "LADY Penelope! Yes, Lady Penelope. Come right this way your ladyship." She practically grovelled her way backwards out from behind her desk. "I'm sure the Tracy gentlemen are in the sunroom."  
  
Lady Penelope examined her surroundings approvingly as she was led down the hallway.  
  
Parker was less impressed. "Don't think much of the staff 'ere." He whispered in his mistress's ear.  
  
She rubbed it delicately. "I'm sure they are all most efficient. Mr Tracy wouldn't have anything but the best for his sons."  
  
They heard the sounds of masculine laughter before they reached the sunroom. The receptionist indicated where they should go and fled. They quietly entered the room.  
  
Scott and Virgil had their backs to the door. They were in hysterics. Then Scott stopped laughing. He sniffed the air.  
  
"I know that perfume! Lady Penelope?"  
  
Virgil looked over his shoulder. "Well I'll be. Penny! Parker! Good to see you." He stood and offered Lady Penelope his seat so that she was able to sit next to Scott. He then managed to get two spare chairs so that he and Parker were able to sit close by and join in the conversation.  
  
"Thank you Virgil." Lady Penelope said graciously. "Ah, how are you both?"  
  
"Getting better every day." Scott said cheerfully. "How was the holiday?"  
  
He seemed so bright and friendly that Lady Penelope was thrown for a moment. "Oh, ah, Parker and I had a most enjoyable time. Most relaxing. Wasn't it Parker?"  
  
"H-except for the last day. Yes M'lady."   
  
"I'm sorry we haven't been to see you sooner," Lady Penelope continued, "but I only spoke to your father the day before yesterday. He was... quite concerned about you." As she looked at Scott she found it hard to believe that the nature of his injuries had been so serious. Apart from the new pink skin from the healed burns on his face, nothing appeared to have changed.  
  
"Yeah. I bet he was." Scott agreed. "It's been a tough few weeks, hasn't it Virg."  
  
She looked at Virgil and noticed he was nodding emphatically. She also noticed his black eye. "What happened to you dear boy? Surely that bruise isn't a result of the, er, accident."  
  
"What this?" He fingered where his eye was still swollen. "No this only happened a couple of days ago." He didn't elaborate.  
  
Scott did. "You want to know how bad it's been up till now? I punched him."  
  
"What?" For a moment Lady Penelope lost her poise.  
  
Parker shifted so he was able to get a better look. "H-impressive. H-I did a bit a sparrin' in me younger days, Mister Scott. But H-I never managed to land a 'it like that one."  
  
"Maybe you'd better teach me a few moves Parker." Virgil said. "So I'll be able to duck next time."  
  
"There's not going to be a next time." Scott said firmly. "That was a mistake. It's not going to happen again."  
  
"You both seemed to be in high spirits when we arrived." Lady Penelope noted.  
  
There was a second's pause and then both Tracy men burst out laughing again.  
  
Scott tried to smother his grin. "Sorry. I'm trying to learn Braille and I haven't quite got the hang of it yet."  
  
"I'm trying to learn it too." Virgil added. "You never know when it might come in handy, and I don't want him having any secrets from us."  
  
"So I typed up a sheet for him to read... You know, 'The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog' type thing." Scott said.  
  
They burst out laughing again.   
  
Lady Penelope and Parker looked on mystified.  
  
"It's not easy." Scott admitted. "Punching the correct keys so that you get the dot combinations right. I'm still making a lot of mistakes. And Freudian slips."  
  
Virgil decided that no matter how good a friend Lady Penelope was, there were some things that shouldn't be said in front of a gentile lady. "Lets just say that the 'h' and 'j' are too similar."  
  
"Way too similar." Scott agreed and laughed again. "Sorry. I guess when you've had several weeks without much to laugh about, all of a sudden the silliest things become hilarious."  
  
"Are they treating you well here?" Lady Penelope asked.  
  
"They're the best!" Scott stated. "They're understanding, but focussed on getting you adjusted. I've got a great therapist. She's never flustered. No matter what I throw at her. Just as well she's got a well stocked first aid kit." He felt his watch. "Speaking of Dusty... Is the time 1.30, Virgil?"  
  
Virgil looked at his own watch. "Yes it is. I guess we'd better get moving."  
  
"Hang on." Scott reached out his hand and found Lady Penelope's arm. He turned so that he was facing at her. "Penny. Will you do me a favour?"  
  
As she looked into his blue eyes she found it hard to believe that he wasn't seeing her. "Of course Scott."  
  
"Will you take Virgil away from here for a few hours? The next session is something mundane like how to fill and carry a glass of water. He doesn't need to be there and since he's got here he's spent all his time either with me or at the physiotherapist. He needs a break."  
  
Lady Penelope was surprised when Virgil didn't disagree with this statement. "Are you sick of me already?" He asked cheerfully.  
  
"No. But I don't want you getting sick of me. Do you mind Penny? Do you have anything else planned?"  
  
"No. I was hoping to spend some time with you boys."  
  
"How about dinner tonight." Scott suggested. "If you both can stand the sight of me spilling food down my front."  
  
"Remember what Gordon suggested." Virgil reminded him. "Mush up your peas."  
  
"I'm sure that's what the etiquette books say you should do when dining with a titled lady." Scott chuckled. "First find your vegetable, then squash it."  
  
"We should be delighted to dine with you both." Lady Penelope stated. "And do what ever you have to Scott. You know I've never insisted on ceremony with your family."  
  
"That's what we like about you. That and the fact that you're so darn useful to the organisation." For a moment the smile disappeared from Scott's face and they could almost hear him adding the words 'unlike me'. He reached beside his chair and retrieved his cane. When he stood the smile had returned. "If you'll all excuse me, I'd better be going."  
  
It was only when they saw the cane and how Scott had to rely on it, that it hit home to Lady Penelope and Parker, that his life had indeed been irrevocably changed.   
  
Virgil remained seated. "Can you manage okay?"  
  
"Sure. Piece of cake. Catch you tonight."  
  
"Au revoir, Scott." Lady Penelope called after him.  
  
Scott was inadvertently heading towards a cabinet.   
  
"Watch out, Mister Scott." Parker called.   
  
Scott stopped.   
  
Parker realised what he'd said. He turned red. "H-I'm sorry. H-I meant, be careful, sir." He said ashamedly.  
  
"Don't worry about it Parker. You don't have to change the English language on my account." Scott's cane hit the cabinet. "Thanks for the warning." He adjusted his course and exited through the door.  
  
Virgil stood and tiptoed quietly across to the doorway himself. He stood there and watched his brother negotiate his way down the hallway and then turn into a room. Satisfied that Scott was okay he returned to his seat. "Like he said. Piece of cake."  
  
Lady Penelope stood. "You've been told you, er, 'need a break', Virgil. The Rolls Royce is outside. Shall we go for a drive? And then you can tell me how YOU are..."  
  
***  
  
Later that evening, after Lady Penelope had called Jeff Tracy and reassured him that all seemed to be well, she remained sitting at the telephone desk in her hotel.  
  
She took a pen and paper out of the drawer and carefully printed...  
  
'The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog'  
  
"Now what were those two letters?" she asked herself. "H and j?"  
  
She crossed out the relevant letters and replaced them. At first it didn't make sense. But then a word caught her eye. She gave a little smile.  
  
Refined she might be. Naïve she wasn't.   
  
*** 


	10. Forty One

Forty One - BF  
  
"Come on slowpoke." Virgil said cheerfully as he waited for Scott to finish his morning ablutions. He leant against the wall and folded his arms casually. "Dusty's waiting."  
  
It was two weeks after Scott had hit Virgil and things had improved markedly. Their friendship was as strong as it had ever been, and Scott was beginning to take his changed life in his stride.  
  
"I haven't finished shaving yet." Scott's voice was muffled by sound of the razor. It stopped and he appeared at the door to the ensuite bathroom. "How do I look?"  
  
"You missed a bit."  
  
"Where?" Scott felt his chin.  
  
"Not there. Your top lip."  
  
"Oh that. I'm trying to grow a moustache." Scott said smugly.  
  
"Going for a new look are you?"  
  
"Yep. Thought it might impress the ladies."  
  
"Well that'll really impress them. You've shaved half of it off."  
  
Scott fingered his top lip. "Darn." He said lightly. "Must have been force of habit. Oh well I'd better go even it up." He disappeared back into the ensuite and Virgil heard the shaver start up again.   
  
Scott was out again a moment later. "Better?"  
  
"Much."  
  
"Good." Scott headed over to the dresser and picked up his hairbrush. "Why do you think they put mirrors in these rooms?"  
  
"Why do you still try to look in it?"  
  
"Some habits are hard to get out of."  
  
"So just where do you think you're going to meet any ladies anyway?" Virgil asked. "The only one you see regularly is Dusty, and she's married."  
  
"We're going into town today aren't we. I may as well look my best. I'm quite a catch. Young, handsome, talented, great personality, son of a billionaire..."  
  
"And with an ego the size of North America."  
  
Scott laughed.  
  
There was a knock on the door.  
  
"I'll get it." Virgil opened the door. "Come in Dusty. We'll be ready as soon as he's finished preening himself."  
  
She smiled as she took in how relaxed they both were. Things had certainly improved over the last couple of weeks. "Ready for your trip to town, Scott."  
  
He laid down the hairbrush. "I think so." He headed for the door.  
  
"Hey!" Virgil said. "You forgot this."  
  
"What?" Scott felt Virgil place the end of his cane against his hand. "Oh, yeah. I guess I might need that later. I have to be ready to protect any damsels in distress." He pretended to sheath the cane like a sword and strode confidently from the room unaided.  
  
Virgil raised his eyes heavenward and Dusty burst out laughing.  
  
***  
  
"I think it's time for you to go home, Virgil."  
  
"What?"  
  
It had been a successful day. Scott had confidently negotiated the unfamiliar streets, paid for lunch, and embarrassed Virgil by loudly telling a busker that his brother was a better pianist than him.  
  
Virgil had escaped before Scott had a chance to make him prove it.  
  
"In my opinion Scott doesn't need your support so much now. He can cope on his own."  
  
"What do you think, Scott?"  
  
Scott was looking surprised. "I hadn't thought about it."  
  
"You won't need to be here for much longer." Dusty explained. Scott looked pleased. "We've just got to iron out a few rough edges and improve your Braille reading skills. It's nothing that Virgil can help you with and it'll be an opportunity for him to make sure that your house doesn't have any hidden traps."  
  
"She's right Virgil." Scott admitted. "I think I can stand on my own two feet now..."  
  
***  
  
It was two weeks after Virgil returned to Tracy Island, and the Tracy household was abuzz.   
  
Scott was finally coming home.   
  
The place was tidied up and a few alterations had been put in to make it easier for him.  
  
Jeff smiled at his mother. "Won't be long now. Virgil'll be picking him up shortly."  
  
"It'll be so wonderful to have him home." Grandma clasped her hands together in pleasure. "To have the whole family together again."  
  
***  
  
Scott was enjoying the ride in the car. It felt great to know that he was finally heading back where he belonged. "So how's everyone?" he asked the driver.  
  
"Fine, fine. Excited about you coming home." Virgil told him.  
  
"This is a long trip. Are we heading to the airport?"  
  
"No. We're going to a farm."  
  
"A farm? Where? Why?" Scott was confused.  
  
"Here. And I'll show you why in a minute." Virgil turned off the road and the car bumped gently along as it drove over the unsealed road. He pulled up outside a barn. "This is where we get out."  
  
Scott opened the car door and stepped out. "Sure sounds and smells like a farm..."  
  
There was a shout from across the paddock. "Everything sorted Virgil?"  
  
"Sure is Frank. Thanks for lending us the car. Scott this is Frank Read - agent 107."  
  
Scott heard the crunch of a footstep on the gravel. "Nice to meet you Frank." He held out his hand in greeting.  
  
"Glad to meet you Scott." Frank shook the proffered hand. "Would you both like a cup of coffee before you head off?"  
  
"No thanks. We'd better get home." Virgil said. "Is the barn clear?"  
  
"Just as you left it." Frank said.  
  
Scott was confused. What did a barn have to do with going home? He felt Virgil offer his arm and he took it as a guide.   
  
"We thought you might want to head home in style Scott." Virgil said conversationally as they entered the building.  
  
"In a barn?"  
  
"No. Give me your hand." Virgil placed Scott's hand on the craft they were about to board.  
  
"Thunderbird One!" Scott recognised the feel of the rocket plane instantly. "I should have guessed with all the secrecy. And it could only be One, we'd never fit your 'bird in a barn."  
  
Virgil was quiet and Scott suddenly realised that in the last couple of months there could have been some changes as to the 'ownership' of the various Thunderbird craft. To try and relieve the sudden tension Scott continued talking.  
  
"How come I'm privileged enough to warrant being flown home in Thunderbird One. We never use it for personal use."  
  
"We were out on a rescue." Virgil explained. "It was decided that it would have been easier for me to swing by and pick you up, than to head home and grab the jet. We're lucky that Frank lives nearby and has a ventilated barn."  
  
"Ventilated barn?" Scott heard a motor start up and then felt the hot sun warm his back as the roof retracted. "Oh, I see."  
  
"Climb aboard." Virgil said. "We'll take off in two minutes." Scott eagerly complied.  
  
***  
  
"How was the rescue?" They'd been airborne for five minutes and Scott was keen to find out what changes had occurred since he'd been gone.  
  
"Fairly straightforward. Some miners were trapped underground. Alan and Gordon got them out in The Mole."  
  
"Were you manning Mobile Control?"  
  
"Yeah. I'm not on full duties yet. It's my first mission since I got back home."  
  
"Has Father said who's going to take my place?"  
  
"No." Virgil's answer was curt.  
  
Scott let the subject drop.  
  
Virgil felt he'd been a little sharp with his reply. "Would you like a go?"  
  
"Would I like a go at what?" Scott asked.  
  
"You know. Flying her."  
  
"Flying Thunderbird One." Scott breathed. "I'd love to, but would I be able to?"  
  
"I don't see why not. You've done it often enough."  
  
"Father would have a fit!"  
  
"He doesn't need to know everything does he? There's not another living soul about for miles. We're perfectly safe." Virgil was grinning as he set the rocket plane into hover mode.  
  
Scott's hands were shaking as he undid his safety harness. 'Better get them under control' he thought as he slid into the familiar pilot's seat. "Are you sure about this Virgil?"  
  
"Of course I'm sure. Just don't try any fancy stunts, I haven't got my safety harness on. I'll stand here and keep an eye on the gauges."  
  
It was like greeting an old friend again, one that he'd believed had died. Scott pressed the throttle forward, feeling the rocket planes motors surge into life. "Virg! This is great!"  
  
They continued on towards home in this way for five minutes. Scott piloting with ease, Virgil occasionally reading out changes in altitude or wind speed.  
  
Eventually Virgil placed a hand on Scott's shoulder. "I'm sorry, but we're nearly home."   
  
Scott was in a buoyant mood "Don't you trust me enough to land her?"  
  
"I'm more worried about the reception I'd get from our father."  
  
Chuckling Scott relinquished the pilots seat. "Thanks Virg. That's just capped off my day." 


	11. Forty Two

Forty Two - BF  
  
Thunderbird One finished its ride back up into its loading hanger. Scott heard the thunks as the mighty rocket plane was locked into place, and the familiar whine as the engines wound down.  
  
Then he heard the rattle of Virgil's safety belt as he got out of the pilot's seat.  
  
"Are you ready?" Virgil asked.  
  
Scott pulled a face. "Can't we go for another ride?"  
  
Virgil laughed. "Come on. They've waited seven weeks to see you. You can't disappoint them now."  
  
Scott felt the change in air temperature as the door slid open. He hesitated before stepping onto the platform. "Want to hear something odd."  
  
"Sure."  
  
"How many times have I travelled on this thing? I've never thought anything of it, but now..."  
  
"Want me to travel across with you?" Virgil asked quietly.  
  
"Please. All I can think of is that gap and the 115ft drop. Guess there's some things they didn't think of training me up on at rehab."  
  
"Gee. I wonder why." Virgil said in mock amazement.  
  
They rode the short distance between Thunderbird One and the twin lamps in silence.  
  
"You'd better go first." Virgil suggested.  
  
"Okay." Scott placed his back against the wall, reached up and grabbed the familiar light fittings, took a deep breath and rotated into the lounge.  
  
He hadn't had a chance to let go of the lamps before he found himself smothered by an affectionate embrace.  
  
  
  
"Hi Grandma". He said with a chuckle. "Did you miss me?"  
  
  
  
"It's good to have you home, Darling." He could hear the smile in her voice.  
  
  
  
"Mmmn. You've been baking cinnamon buns haven't you."  
  
  
  
"Yes." She sounded surprised. "How'd you know?"  
  
  
  
"I can smell them, and believe me they smell better than any perfume you could wear."  
  
  
  
"Oh Scott." She chided him.  
  
  
  
"Mother. How about giving the rest of us a chance to say hello." Scott heard his father's deep voice.  
  
  
  
Suddenly Scott felt shy, and annoyed with himself for feeling this way. This was his family for Pete's sake. He loved them and, although he hadn't always admitted it, had missed them. But still it all felt so strange.  
  
He heard an intercom come to life. "Any chance of me being allowed to come in there? Or do I have to spend the day with Thunderbird One?" Virgil asked irritably.  
  
"You heard the man." Gordon said. "You'd better step away from the wall and say hello."  
  
Scott took a step forwards. "Hello."  
  
Once again he was surprised to be swallowed up in a bear hug, except this bear hug was in triplicate and was given by his brothers. "Whoa! Put me down!"  
  
"You're looking great, Scott." Alan said loudly.  
  
Scott rubbed at the ear. "No need to shout, Alan. It's my eyes that don't work. My ears are just fine."  
  
"Oh, sorry." Alan said abashedly.  
  
Scott laughed and pulled him into a hug of his own. "You idiot. Don't worry about it."  
  
"He hasn't changed." Gordon said. "Still a typical kid brother."  
  
"Yeah, well. So are you." Scott hugged him.  
  
"How could he change in only seven weeks?" John asked.  
  
"Seven long weeks." Scott admitted as he hugged him. "How come you've been released from the tin-can?"  
  
"Dunno. Dad thought today was special for some reason or other."  
  
"Come here, Father? I need to thank you for that."  
  
"I'm right here Scott." Jeff Tracy wasn't one for physical displays of emotion but he still gave his eldest born a hug that was full of warmth. "Welcome home son."  
  
"I'm glad to be home."  
  
"Welcome home, Mister Scott." He heard Kyrano's soft tread as he stepped forward.   
  
Scott stretched out his hand and then decided that a simple handshake wasn't enough. It was Kyrano's turn to be surprised by an embrace.  
  
"Your turn Brains." Scott announced. "You're part of this family."  
  
Partially embarrassed, partially pleased, Brains submitted to a rough hug.  
  
"Tin-Tin." Scott could smell her perfume and turned so he was facing her. "Come here and give me a hug, Honey." Her hair smelt clean as she wrapped her arms around him. Then he heard a sniff. "Hey what's this?" he asked. "No tears, okay? I'm home. That's what matters."  
  
"Sorry Scott." She sniffed back the tears. "It's wonderful to see you... I mean..." she covered her mouth in horror.  
  
To cover her confusion Scott laughed and hugged her again. "It's okay, Honey. It's only a word."  
  
"I see why they say absence makes the heart grown fonder." Virgil griped gently. "I've only been away from you for two weeks and all I got was a hello."  
  
"Aw." Scott said sympathetically. And Virgil was rewarded by being placed into a headlock.  
  
"I love you too." He said flatly.  
  
"What do you want to do first, Scott?" Jeff asked.  
  
"Actually, I'd quite like to see my room again." Scott admitted.  
  
"Take my arm." Alan, Gordon and John said eagerly in unison.  
  
  
  
Scott laughed. "I wonder how long it'll take before you get sick of saying that? No offence, but in the short term at least, I'd rather stick with someone who knows what they're doing. Virgil?"  
  
  
  
"We've been practising." Alan volunteered. "We won't let you bash into anything."  
  
  
  
"I'm sure you have, Alan. But bear with me on this okay. Give me a couple of days to get my bearings again."  
  
"At your service." Virgil was by his side and Scott took his arm.  
  
  
  
As they walked down to the bedroom, Scott tried to estimate where the turn off to each room they passed was. He was pleasantly surprised to find that he knew when to turn into his own room.  
  
Virgil led him in so that they were just inside the door and then detached himself.  
  
Slowly Scott stepped forward. His Grandma had given the room a spring clean judging by the odours. He could hear the comforting sound of the ocean on the beach and the tick of his clock.   
  
"We haven't changed anything in here." Jeff said. "But we've made one or two alterations in the rest of the house. Nothing major."  
  
Scott was feeling along the edge of his dressing table, trying to remember where everything was. He reached out and placed his hand on the toiletries that resided there. Then he moved his hand to the left and it came in contact with a model aeroplane. It was one that he'd made when he was at school. Carefully he picked it up and felt around its contours, before replacing it.   
  
His family watched as his hands continued their exploration, re-familiarising himself with his belongings. He came across some aircraft books. "Guess I won't need these anymore."   
  
He heard Tin-Tin give a sob and run down the hallway to her room. He heard Kyrano's footsteps follow after her. He heard the rest of his family shift uneasily.  
  
Scott moved on, finding his chair, desk and other articles of furniture. He came to his bedside table, hesitated and then slowly reached out, picking something up. He traced the outline of his bed until he reached its foot, and sat down.  
  
Jeff was reminded of the first day in rehab. Scott had the same expression of desolation.  
  
Virgil moved forward and sat beside his brother. He looked at Scott's hand.  
  
Scott was clutching his wings. His pilot's wings that he'd worn so proudly.  
  
"Scott." Virgil said tentatively. "Do you want to check out somewhere else or would you like us to leave you alone for a bit?"  
  
"Just give me ten minutes, okay Virg." Scott's voice was choked with emotion.  
  
"Sure." Virgil patted his brother on the arm. "Tell you what. I've got to run through Thunderbird One's checklist and make sure she's shipshape. When I've done that I'll grab your bags and give you a hand unpacking. Okay?"  
  
Scott nodded dumbly.  
  
Virgil stood and gestured that his family should leave also.  
  
Quietly they filed out of the room.  
  
***  
  
  
  
Lunch was punctuated with gaiety, but it was a forced gaiety. No one wanted to be the one to put a foot wrong. No one wanted to say the wrong thing.  
  
Everyone was curious and yet no one wanted to be the one to ask about how things had been in rehabilitation.  
  
No one wanted to be the one to ask the question, but they all wanted to know what Scott was now capable of.  
  
Everyone wanted to behave naturally and yet no one was able to.  
  
Even Virgil found himself constrained by his family's apprehension, and he knew most of the answers.  
  
Scott felt as if he were on display in a museum, there to be admired, but not touched in case he should fall apart.  
  
After lunch, they checked out the rest of the house.   
  
Scott clung to Virgil's arm as they toured the complex. The rest of the family tagged along as if they were following the Pied Piper.  
  
They ended up in the courtyard by the pool.  
  
The tension was getting to Scott.   
  
Virgil felt it. "Hey Scott." He said. "I've been practising my Braille. But I'm not sure if I've got it right. Could you read what I've written and tell me? Maybe give me a few pointers."  
  
"Sure Virg. Be glad to." Scott tried to sound cheerful.  
  
"Well if you boys are going to get some work in, I guess I'd better too." Jeff said perceptively.   
  
"And we three were going to get in some practise in the simulator." John stated.  
  
"But..." Alan started.  
  
"Come on, Alan. You and I need to get in some practise together. We don't get too many opportunities." John insisted.  
  
"That's because one of us is always stuck up in Thunderbird Five." Alan pointed out.  
  
"All the more reason to make the most of the opportunity." John noted.  
  
"What am I supposed to do?" Gordon asked.  
  
"You can programme the simulator." John told him pulling him away.  
  
"Yeah!" Gordon grinned excitedly. He already had several devious scenarios going through his mind.  
  
"Aw, no..." Alan groaned as he tagged along behind. "He's gonna try to kill the both of us."  
  
"I-I'm working on a few prototypes." Brains admitted. "I-I'd better get back to work. I'll be in my lab"  
  
"And I've got some baking I've got to do." Grandma said a trifle over-cheerfully. "If we want dessert tonight I'd better get started."  
  
Soon Virgil and Scott were the only ones left outside.  
  
Virgil relaxed. "I thought they'd never go." He said. "Want me to follow them?"  
  
"No stay!" Scott said hurriedly and then he too relaxed. "I love them all, but it was getting a bit much for me. So, where's your Braille?"  
  
"That can wait. What do you want to do?"  
  
"A nice quiet, lonely walk along the beach would be nice."  
  
"Sure."  
  
Alan looked down from the balcony. "I thought they were going to do some Braille reading."  
  
"You clot." John admonished him. "We were following them round like a flock of sheep. It was an excuse to get away from us."  
  
"So the simulator was an excuse too?" Gordon asked disappointed.  
  
"Yes, but a good one. I need the practise." John informed him. "Come on you two." He took one last look at his older brother and yet again found himself wondering 'what if'...  
  
They took off their shoes and felt the soft sand squish between their toes. "That feels better." Scott said.  
  
"You know, normally, if I chose to walk along a beach with someone hanging off my arm, I'd prefer it to be female." Virgil noted.  
  
Scott laughed. "I've had some major changes in my life, but that would be going too far." Then he hesitated. "Was that a hint?"  
  
"Obviously not too subtle a one. You've been hanging on like a limpet all day."  
  
Scott released his grip on Virgil's arm. "Sorry. It all feel's so weird. It feels like home and yet I feel as if I'm a stranger. As if I'm in a strange place. Everything's where I expect it to be and yet..."  
  
They slowly started walking along the beach.  
  
"The same but different, is it?" Virgil asked.  
  
"That's it."  
  
  
  
"Anything I can do to help?"  
  
  
  
"Not at the moment. I just need to get my bearings again. And it would help if everyone else would relax. Everyone's tip toeing around me as if I were one of Grandma's bone china dishes."  
  
  
  
"Do you want me to talk to them?"  
  
  
  
"No. It'd only embarrass them."   
  
"Don't be afraid to ask them for help. As Alan said, they've been practising. They know to look out for you as well as themselves. They want to help."  
  
"Maybe tomorrow. Today is strange enough as it is. I'm comfortable 'hanging off' your arm. I know I can trust you."  
  
"Give it time, Scott. It will get better. You'll be able to trust them."  
  
Scott gave a wry grin. "You sound like Dusty."  
  
"Who knew what she was talking about."  
  
***  
  
For a day that he'd been looking forward to for such a long time, Scott was glad when it came to an end.  
  
Virgil guided him to his bedroom. "I know you can cope from here. Can you remember where to find everything?"  
  
"Pyjamas, bathroom, bed." Scott pointed each item out. "Yeah. I can manage."  
  
"Anything else you want me to do?"  
  
"No thanks. I'll be fine."  
  
They heard the sound of a klaxon.  
  
  
  
"Bother." Virgil said. "I guess the automatic relay's working. I've got to go. Do you want to come down and see what's happening?"  
  
  
  
"No. I'll go to bed."  
  
  
  
"Are you sure you don't need anything?"  
  
  
  
"No, I'm okay."  
  
  
  
"Would you like me to send Father down once everything's settled?"  
  
  
  
Scott shook his head. "No I'll be alright. Let him concentrate on the rescue. I've coped without you these last two weeks. I can cope tonight. You'd better go, there's someone out there who needs you more than I do."  
  
  
  
Virgil stopped before he reached the door. "Scott."  
  
  
  
"Yeah, Virg."  
  
  
  
"I'm glad you're home."  
  
  
  
"Thanks."  
  
  
  
Virgil had made it into the hallway when he heard Scott's voice.  
  
  
  
"Virgil!"  
  
  
  
He stuck his head back into the room. "Yeah?"  
  
  
  
"Be careful!" Scott said anxiously. "And look after the guys too."   
  
  
  
"Sure. We'll be back before you know it." Virgil said confidently.  
  
Scott heard his footsteps run away down the hallway.   
  
He collapsed his cane.   
  
He walked around to his bedside table and placed it there.   
  
He sat on the side of his bed.   
  
He reached out to the small table and picked up his pilot's wings.   
  
His fingertips traced their outline.  
  
He felt a rumbling vibration grow and fill his room.  
  
He grasped the wings tightly in his hand. So tight the points dug into his skin.  
  
He heard the roar of Thunderbird One as she was launched out through the swimming pool.  
  
With a roar of his own he threw the wings far away from him.  
  
He heard them hit the wall and clatter down onto the floor.  
  
Behind a cabinet...  
  
Out of reach... 


	12. Forty Three

Forty Three - BF  
  
Virgil Tracy clenched his jaw muscles to try to stop himself from grinding his teeth together in frustration.  
  
It was just on three weeks since Scott had come home and Virgil was as pleased as anyone in his family to have his brother back where he belonged. But, and he hated to admit this, the way his family was treating Scott starting to get on his nerves.  
  
"Would you like me to give you some more apple sauce, Scott?" Gordon asked.  
  
"That would be great thanks Gordon." Scott finished his drink as Gordon spread the sauce on the sandwich. "Any more juice?"  
  
"I'll get it!" Alan grabbed Scott's glass and filled it.  
  
It wasn't only that everyone was slavishly catering to Scott's every smallest need that irked Virgil, it was the fact that Scott was letting them.  
  
Scott tried the pork sandwich that his Grandmother had made him. "I think this needs a bit of salt."  
  
"I'll do that..." Tin-Tin reached for the salt cellar.  
  
"For Pete's sake! Let him do it himself!" Virgil finally snapped. It was as if the words had popped out unbidden and he found himself being stared at by eight pairs of eyes.  
  
"What?" Tin-Tin asked.  
  
Virgil took a breath. There was no backing down now. "I said let him do it. He's capable. Aren't you Scott?"  
  
"Well..." Scott's reply was cut short by a rumble from Jeff.  
  
"Virgil!"  
  
The stares were becoming vaguely hostile. Virgil tried to explain. "He's not helpless. He can look after himself. Can't you Scott." His plea for support went unanswered.  
  
"Virgil Tracy. How can you be so heartless?" Tin-Tin pouted.  
  
"Heartless... Is that what you think? I'm being realistic. You're all feeling sorry for him and not giving him a chance to do things for himself. To do the things that he went to rehab to learn." Virgil was starting to feel a little hot under the collar.  
  
He wasn't the only one. "I think we should finish this conversation - later." Jeff said ominously.  
  
"Why?" Virgil asked stubbornly. "To give me time to feel guilty and apologise. Well it won't happen. How can he learn what he can and can't do if you won't let him do anything?"  
  
"Virgil!" There was a definite warning in Jeff's voice.  
  
"What!" Virgil snapped. He'd had it. "Can't you see what you're all doing? I'm sorry Scott but I can't take this anymore. This isn't you! You've changed? Why? You've lost your sight, not your personality!"  
  
Virgil's statement resulted in a collective gasp from the family. "Steady on Virg." Gordon said quietly.  
  
Virgil wasn't listening. "That doesn't mean you're helpless. I know EXACTLY what you can do!"  
  
"Do you? What do you want me to do, Virgil?" Virgil's tirade was finally getting to Scott. "I'm a bit limited with my options now..."  
  
Virgil gave a bitter laugh. "Limited! The only thing that's limiting you Scott is attitude. Yours and our family's." He stood up, his chair banging against the wall. He ignored it. "Look at yourselves! You all think you're helping him, but you're not. And Scott you're certainly NOT helping yourself. I'm not going to stay here and watch you all ruin his life!" With that pronouncement he stormed out.  
  
"Virgil Tracy! Come back here and apologise!" Jeff yelled. But Virgil had gone.  
  
Although all his sons were now men, Jeff expected, and usually got, unquestioning obedience. Virgil ignoring him on top of what had just been said enraged his father.   
  
"How dare he..." Jeff rose and strode off after his errant son.  
  
He reached the hallway and hesitated. Virgil could either have retreated to his room, or headed into the lounge. There were no sounds coming from the piano so Jeff decided to try the bedroom.  
  
The door was shut. Jeff was angry enough to open it without knocking.   
  
The room was empty. Becoming even angrier Jeff stormed off back down the hallway to the lounge.  
  
This room was empty too. There was a myriad of exits that Virgil could have taken, both obvious and hidden, but Jeff knew he had an advantage. "Base to Thunderbird Five. Come in John."  
  
John's portrait disappeared to be replaced with the real thing. The smile of greeting quickly disappeared. "What's wrong?"  
  
Jeff wasn't in the mood to elaborate. "Can you track Virgil's watch for me!"  
  
"Sure." This was an unusual request, but John complied without question. "He's on the chute to Thunderbird Two..."  
  
"I should have guessed..." Jeff was about to head to the transporter plane when John stopped him.  
  
"The signal's heading back up the chute. It's stopped now."  
  
"Stopped! Then the little devil's left his watch on the slide!" Jeff knew that from Thunderbird Two's hanger there were any number of exits that Virgil could have taken. The fact that he'd left his watch behind showed that he didn't want to be found.  
  
"Thanks John." He eventually said. "Go back to lunch."  
  
"Lunch! Is it lunchtime. I hadn't even thought about it. What are you having?"  
  
"Pork sandwiches."  
  
"With Grandma's apple sauce? I'd love one of those now."  
  
"The way Virgil's been behaving you may be relieved earlier than you expect. You could come home and have your meals here."  
  
"Virgil! What's he done?"  
  
"Told us to stop helping Scott."  
  
"Virgil?! You're kidding aren't you?"  
  
"I wish I was. Go get your lunch son. I'll talk to you later." 


	13. Forty Four

Forty Four - BF  
  
Virgil kept a low profile for the rest of the day. The family sat down to the evening meal and noticed an obvious vacant space.  
  
Jeff was the last to arrive. "Where's Virgil?" he growled.  
  
"We haven't seen him since lunchtime." Alan said.  
  
His Grandmother looked a trifle guilty. "He came to the kitchen ten minutes ago and grabbed his dinner. He said something about not wanting to see us make fools of ourselves, and that he'd eat in his room."  
  
"He what!" Any trace of good mood Jeff had left evaporated. "When we have a meal I expect the entire family to be present. I'm going to get him!"  
  
"Father!" It was Scott who spoke. "Let me go. I think we need to talk."  
  
Jeff took a breath to calm down. "If you really want to. I can talk to him later. Do you want a hand getting to his room?"  
  
Scott retrieved his cane and stood up. "Yeah, if you wouldn't mind."  
  
***  
  
Scott found Virgil's room with his father's assistance. He knocked on the door and was somewhat surprised when he heard it slide back.  
  
Virgil was sitting at his desk toying with his food. He'd played with it more than he'd eaten it. He hated the situation he'd got himself into, but felt that now that he'd made a stand he'd have to stick to his guns. "Come in Scott. There's a chair to your right if you want to sit down." He said quietly. "I guess you have a few words you want to say to me."  
  
The invitation to be seated was ignored. "I'll say I do." Scott surprised even himself with the venom in his words. "What gives you the right to suppose that you know what I can and cannot do?"  
  
Scott was expecting some sort of reply or explanation and was somewhat annoyed when he didn't get one. "You don't know what it's like to be in total darkness all the time, to have your life taken away from you. To lose your hopes and dreams. To become suddenly useless. What good am I now Virgil? I'm no use to International Rescue, I'm no good to the family. The only thing I could do really well was fly and I can't do that anymore! And now you telling me that I'm not pulling my weight?"  
  
Virgil remained silent. He'd let Scott have his say before launching his own attack. "I thought you'd support me Virgil, help me. And all you are doing is giving me more grief than I've already got. Why are you trying to turn our family against me?"  
  
Virgil's continued silence stirred Scott up even further. He began yelling. Yelling that intensified until it reached a climax and he ran out of things to say. He stopped.  
  
  
  
"Have you finished?" Virgil asked.  
  
"For the moment, yes."  
  
"Good. Then let me tell you a few things. You asked what gave me the right to know what you can do. I'll tell you. Two months of watching you achieve things that you thought weren't possible. Don't forget it was ME who watched over you as you clambered over the debris at Regnad. It was ME you were with when you climbed that ventilation ladder. It was MY arm that YOU saved. It was you that gave ME hope when I was sure we were going to die. It was ME who shared a hospital room with you for a week. It was ME who stayed with you for over a month and supported you while you were in rehabilitation. It was ME who saw you gain confidence..."  
  
"That doesn't give you the right..."  
  
"Hang on Scott! I let you say your piece now you let me say mine! In that week that we spent in hospital you learnt to feed yourself, you learnt how to get about with only the cane. You could use the phone no sweat. You helped me with things that I couldn't do because of my busted arm. Heck! You saved Joe's life! And all this was without any formal training. Since then you've learnt how to do all that and more. When I left you, you were doing really well. You'd got your confidence back and didn't need any help. And yet you come home and expect our family to do everything for you!"  
  
"Like what!" Scott said stubbornly, but with less assurance than before.  
  
"Like... Before the accident you thought nothing of sneaking out to grab a midnight snack. No need for lights or a cane. You could find your way in the dark! Now you sit in your room all day waiting for someone to come and collect you for your meals!"  
  
Scott didn't say anything.  
  
"The first week home, I was so glad to see you that I was more than willing to do all that I could for you. I figured 'Scott deserves it. He's had a hard time.' The second week was... 'Well he's got to come to terms with it all'. But it's been three weeks Scott! Three weeks of you feeling sorry for yourself."  
  
"Aren't I allowed to?"  
  
"Occasionally, but not all the time. And not at the expense of our family. I'll tell you something else, Scott. I lost all sympathy for you last week, when you made Grandma pick up your slippers."  
  
"She offered."  
  
"They were right beside you! You only had to reach down and get them!"  
  
Scott was silent.  
  
"And what about Trudy?"  
  
"Huh?" Scott was confused. "Who?"  
  
"The little girl. It was, lets see, your second week in rehab. The day that I came to stay. What you didn't know was that I saw Trudy fall over beside you. The therapist who was showing me round was going to rush over and help her, but I stopped her because I wanted to see what you would do."  
  
"I remember." Scott said quietly and he found the chair and sat down.  
  
"Trudy was in tears, partly because of the fall and partly because she was frightened of not being able to see. You talked to her, calmed her down, got her on her feet again, led her over to some chairs, and got her a drink of water. And all the time I'm standing there watching and thinking 'it's going to be okay. Scott's going to cope just fine.'"  
  
"Poor kid." Scott rolled his cane between his palms. "She'd been there a month. She was only nine and had been blinded in a car accident that had killed her father. Her mother couldn't stay with her because she had two younger children to care for and no support. She was alone and frightened."  
  
"She'd been there a month." Virgil said quietly. "You'd only been there one week and yet you were looking after her. You're not helpless."  
  
"So is that what I'm meant to do with my life? Pick up upset little girls? It may have escaped your notice, but there aren't any here on the island. Tin-Tin and Grandma are a trifle old." The anger had returned to Scott's voice. It reignited Virgil's own anger.  
  
"For Pete's sake Scott! Get over it! That explosion cost you two things. Your sight and my respect!"  
  
"I never asked for your respect!"  
  
"No. But you earned it. With the things you did, what you said, your never say die attitude. So you can't see! That's no reason to give up."  
  
"But what am I good for? Answer me that Virgil!"  
  
  
  
"Listen to you! I'm fed up with pussyfooting around! You're blind Scott! You're not helpless!"  
  
It was as if Virgil had hit Scott. Up till now no one in the family had mentioned the 'b' word.' "Virg..." he said weakly.  
  
Virgil suddenly felt sorry for his oldest brother again. "Scott... You'll never find out what you can do if you don't try. You're more than just a pilot. You still have a mind. You're intelligent. You still have those leadership qualities that were so valuable to International Rescue. At some point you are going to have to sit down and decide what you want to do with your life..."  
  
"But what can I do?"  
  
"At the moment you're carrying on as if you're planning on seeing out your days sitting on a street with a tin cup and a sign saying 'International Rescue member blinded on duty. Please spare a dime.' If that's how you want to spend the rest of your life then tell me and I'll paint the sign right now and arrange the flight out. If not - you've got to take some responsibility for yourself!"  
  
Scott buried his face in his hands. He stayed there for a long time. Virgil was unable to see his features, to read what was going through his mind. Eventually he felt he had to say something. "I am sorry Scott." He said quietly. "I shouldn't have brought it up in this way, in front of the family. I was just so exasperated that it slipped out."  
  
Scott quietly lowered his hands. "Why do I hate it when you're right?" he eventually asked sombrely. "When I was in rehab, at first I was angry."  
  
"I know" Virgil said. "I've got the scars to prove it."  
  
  
  
"You what?"  
  
  
  
"I'm kidding. Go on."  
  
"I tried to find someone to blame. I blamed Regnad Corp. I blamed International Rescue. I blamed Father for starting International Rescue. I blamed John for not letting me know that the scientists had gotten out sooner..."  
  
"John's blamed himself too." Virgil said quietly.  
  
"Why? It wasn't his fault. I don't blame him now... you neither. At one point I even blamed you for not helping me more. I think that's why I hit you. And then as soon as I'd done it I realised that hurting you was the last thing that I wanted to do."   
  
He didn't see Virgil stiffen slightly.  
  
Scott sighed. "Then after a bit I started to think, 'It was an accident. It was no one's fault. It was just one of the risks of being a member of International Rescue.' That was when I started to think 'I can do this! I can survive this!' Everything was a major challenge, but I started to learn, with a lot of bruises to the body and ego."   
  
Scott looked towards Virgil, his sightless eyes staring into the middle distance. "And then I came home and it was as if I'd been expecting everything to be as it had always had been. And it's not!" Virgil walked over and knelt beside Scott's chair, laying a reassuring arm around his shoulders. "The shock that's it's not going to be as it was hit me hard. I guess I've gone to pieces. It's me who should be apologising Virg. To you and our family." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "Virgil. I hate to say this. But I'm frightened. For the first time in my life, since Ma died, I'm frightened of the future."  
  
No words of reply seemed adequate. Virgil pulled Scott into a brotherly hug. He could feel Scott shaking.  
  
It was a measure of how frightened he was that Scott Tracy willingly submitted to the embrace, even welcomed it. "Help me Virg." He whispered into Virgil's shoulder. "Help me get through this."  
  
"I will Scott. I'll do all I can. Whenever you need help you only need to ask. But only when you need it, not when you only want it. You are NOT helpless. We will find a role for you in International Rescue. I don't know what, but we'll find something that makes use of your talents."  
  
"I wish I could think of something." Scott pulled away and stood up. "You know, you are the only person who can make me see sense"  
  
  
  
"At least it didn't involved physical violence this time."  
  
  
  
"I thought you'd forgiven me for that!"  
  
  
  
"I have, but it doesn't mean that I was happy about it. It hurt! A lot!"  
  
  
  
"Oh." Scott said sheepishly. "I'm sorry."  
  
  
  
"You can stop saying that. You've apologised for hitting me and I've forgiven you. It over! Finished!"   
  
They were silent for a moment. Then Virgil got to his feet and walked over to his desk. He opened a drawer and took out a sheet of paper. "Scott." He said awkwardly.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I want you to keep this." Virgil handed him the paper.  
  
"What is it?" Scott asked.  
  
"It's a declaration, stating that should anything happen to me, I want to donate my eyes to you."  
  
"What!"  
  
"I've discussed it with Father, and there's a signed copy in the safe, but I thought you should be aware of it."  
  
Scott ran his fingers over the raised dots. "I don't know what to say. I'd rather have you in one piece. Besides brown's not my colour." He gave an uncomfortable laugh.  
  
"I know." Virgil said seriously.   
  
"But..."  
  
"Think of it as a gift. Also if anything should happen to me International Rescue is going to be short a pilot, and you're the best we've got."  
  
"But why are you telling me this?"  
  
"Because if the worst should happen, and Father suggests it, I want you to know that it's what I want. Or if he forgets I want you to not be afraid to suggest it to him."  
  
"What do the rest of the guys think?"  
  
"I haven't discussed it with them. The time hasn't been right."  
  
"I don't like this Virgil. I feel as though we're pre-empting the future."  
  
"Don't worry, I'm not about to break the habit of a lifetime and start behaving recklessly, and I'm not feeling suicidal. I just feel that in the event of something happening, we should be prepared."  
  
"Like a good Boy Scout."  
  
"We both know how easily it can happen. We both nearly died in Regnad, and we know how close it was for me later in the hospital. I wonder what the doctors would have suggested if I had died before we knew your condition was permanent."  
  
"This is getting too morbid."  
  
"Okay, I won't mention it again. Just don't forget if the situation ever arises, okay?"  
  
"Okay. Thank you." Scott said numbly as he refolded that page and placed it in his pocket. "I just hope the situation never arises."  
  
"I've gotta admit. I do too." Then Virgil snapped his fingers. "I know what you can do for International Rescue! You can taste test Brains' next batch of edible transmitters. Make sure I don't get a rotten one."  
  
Scott gave a quiet chuckle. "Talking of things edible. How about joining us at the dinner table."  
  
"Sure." Virgil made his way to the door. "Thinking about it, you'd probably do quite well with the tin cup. Being from International Rescue would give you extra kudos." Then he stopped.  
  
Scott hesitated too. "What's wrong?"  
  
  
  
"I'm unsure about how our family's going to react to seeing me."  
  
  
  
"Don't worry about it. If any of them give you any grief, tell them to come and see me. I'll sort them out. I'm told I've got a great right hook!"  
  
***  
  
The dining room was quiet when they returned. "My dinner's cold." Virgil stated, "I'm going to heat it. Do you want me to heat yours Scott?"  
  
"Yes thanks Virg."  
  
"That's generous of you Virgil." Alan said sarcastically. "Had a change of tune?"  
  
Virgil gave his youngest brother a cold look. "No. Just being courteous. I'm doing what I'd do for any of you - most of the time."  
  
"Virgil!" Jeff growled. "I'll want a word with you later."  
  
"Leave him Father." Scott said gently. "Everything that had to be said has been said."  
  
"Not by me."  
  
"No. But by me... And Virgil. And Virgil was right. I'm sorry, but I have been using you all, maybe without realising it, but I have been. I don't need as much help as you've given me. I'm grateful that you are willing to help me so much, but, as Virgil said, I've got to become more independent. That's not to say..." he grinned ruefully, "that it's going to be easy. I will need help occasionally, making sure I'm wearing the same coloured socks springs to mind, but now the main thing I'm going to ask for is your support. ...And your forgiveness."  
  
Virgil leant against the counter watching his family's expressions. That they were surprised by Scott's admission was an understatement. He felt now was the opportunity for him to try to mend a few bridges. "While we're offering apologies..." he began. "I'll give you all one myself. I shouldn't have blown my stack the way I did. There would have been a better way and time for bringing all this up. I'm sorry if I upset you all. But I won't apologise for what I said."   
  
The buzzer on the reheater beeped and he retrieved both his and Scott's plates. He settled Scott's plate on the appropriate table mat. "Okay Scott. Meat's at one o-clock. Peas at ten, potatoes at seven, carrots at five and your cauliflower's in the centre. Your cup's in the usual place, salt is at twelve o-clock and you'll have to ask Alan to pass you the butter. Okay?"   
  
"Okay." With no problems Scott started tucking into his dinner. The only complication was when he miscalculated the position of his cup and spilt his drink. Without a word he got up, found a cloth and mopped up most of the spillage himself.  
  
Virgil enjoyed that meal. 


	14. Forty Five

Forty Five - BF  
  
Later that day Scott was wandering through the house, reminding himself of its dimensions and the locations of various articles and pieces of furniture. He suddenly realised that he was alone in the lounge. He made his way over to his father's desk. Feeling about he found the switch that activated the link to Thunderbird Five.  
  
"Scott!" he could hear surprise in John's voice.  
  
"Hi Johnny. We didn't get much time to talk while you were home so I thought I'd give you a call and say hi."  
  
"How are you?"  
  
"Not bad. I'm actually amazed at how easy I'm finding it is to get about the house. You don't realise how well you know a place until something changes and you have to relearn. So how are you John?"  
  
"Me? I'm fine. It's been quiet these last few weeks. There's been a few emergencies that I've kept an eye... ah, I've watched... I've kept on listening to, but the local rescue authorities have managed without our help."  
  
"Just as well. International Rescue has been a bit short-staffed these past few weeks."  
  
"I know. How's Virgil's arm? He still seemed to be favouring it a bit."  
  
"I don't know. He hasn't complained to me about it." Scott filed this bit of information away for later. "So have you discovered anything new and exciting lately?"  
  
Now he could hear enthusiasm in John's voice. "Brains installed a new telescopic attachment last time he was here. And I think I've discovered a new star! And not only that, there's every possibility it's got planets orbiting it! I'll have to do some more research, but I'm pretty sure I'm onto something. Next time you're up here I'll have to show you..." John's voice petered out as he realised what he'd said. "I'm sorry Scott. I forgot."  
  
  
  
"That's okay Johnny. I'd rather you were able to forget. I want everyone to treat me as they've always done."  
  
  
  
"It's not going to be easy."  
  
  
  
"I know. It's not easy for me either, but it's something we've all got to get used to."  
  
"I had a weird call from Dad earlier today." John said tentatively.  
  
"Yeah. What did he say?"  
  
"He wanted me to track Virgil's watch."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"He said Virg. had told everyone to stop helping you. Why?"  
  
"You may not believe this John, but Virgil was actually talking sense, although the rest of us didn't appreciate it at the time." Scott looked somewhat shamefaced. "Everyone was mollycoddling me, and I was letting them. I was feeling sorry for myself. And Virgil was getting annoyed because he could see what was happening. He just got a little steamed up and told us all to snap out of it."  
  
"And Dad didn't take to kindly to it." John said dryly.  
  
"I'll say!" Scott grinned. "Just as well Virgil was quick on his feet."  
  
"And everything's alright now?"  
  
"Yeah. It's like I said. I've realised that I want everyone to treat me normally. The problem is that Virgil's had a couple of months to get to know what I can do, he's learnt with me. But it's going to take some time for everyone else to adjust and get to know what I'm capable of."  
  
"It going to take me even longer." John said quietly. "I'm not there to see you in action."  
  
"Just treat me normally. That's all I ask. I'll let you know if I need your help."  
  
"I'll try to remember."  
  
"Say John." Scott started to manoeuvre the conversation around to where he wanted it to go. "I don't think I thanked you for the help you were while we were stuck in Regnad."  
  
"I wasn't much help." John said despondently.  
  
"Don't you believe it! You kept us believing that we could get out, even though we had all those obstacles to get through. You kept us focused. And when we were down you made us laugh. You don't know how important that was to us. I remember that we both commented on how glad we were that you were there guiding us. I understand your piloting skills were pretty awesome too."  
  
John chuckled at the memory. "That was a real challenge! All I could think about was how Virgil was going to kill me if I so much as put a scratch on Thunderbird Two. And then when I lost contact with her I started wondering if I could ask Dad if I could live up here permanently."  
  
Scott laughed. "The way Virgil was going on about that edible transmitter swap I wouldn't have been surprised to hear Alan had asked to join you."  
  
"Of course if Thunderbird Two had crashed neither of you would have been here." John pointed out. "There was no way we could have got you out in time."  
  
"That's the way these things happen." Scott saw the opening he'd been waiting for. "Sometimes things go our way, sometimes they don't. We survived. That was fate. I'm blind. That was fate too. It was no one's fault."  
  
"Are you sure about that?"  
  
"I'm sure that it was an accident. That I was unlucky to be looking over that wall at the moment that the generator blew. If I'd looked a moment earlier I would have been alright. A moment later and, well, I wouldn't have looked. I would have been running for my life. There was no way that I could have been warned in time. Don't blame yourself John."  
  
"But I do blame myself. I keep thinking that maybe I could have let you know that the scientists were out sooner." Scott could hear frustration in John's voice.  
  
"Don't. It wasn't your fault. It was no one's fault. Believe me, there are times when I feel like getting someone from Regnad, pushing them up against a wall and yelling at them 'look at what you've done to me.' But I can't blame them. The only person I can blame is myself."  
  
  
  
"You?" John was curious about this idea.  
  
  
  
"Yes me. I knew being a member of International Rescue would be dangerous, but I still joined willingly. It's the same for you and Virgil and Gordon and Alan. We all know the risks and yet we've all put our lives on the line. I can only blame myself for what happened to me."  
  
  
  
"I'd never thought of it that way." John mused. "But then I've never had to." He sighed. "But still... if I'd radioed..."  
  
"John." There was exasperation in Scott's voice. "Repeat after me. 'It was not my fault'."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"John! Say it!"  
  
Slowly John complied. "It was not my fault."  
  
"Good." Scott smiled. "Now believe it, because I believe it and I know everyone else believes it."  
  
John smiled. "Okay, Scott. I'll try." And Scott was pleased to hear relief in his voice.  
  
From the shadows of the hallway Jeff Tracy smiled too. For the first time he began to realise that Scott was still Scott. He was still watching over his brothers even though he couldn't see them... 


	15. Forty Six

No, that last chapter wasn't the end. I didn't upload last night because ff.net wouldn't let me.  
  
On with the story.  
  
Purupuss.  
  
Forty Six - BF  
  
Two days later...  
  
Jeff walked into the lounge, he had a couple of things he wanted to do at his desk before he finished for the day. A figure on the balcony caught his attention. Scott was leaning on the balustrade, his face turned out towards the Pacific Ocean.  
  
Jeff walked over to him. "You look like you're deep in thought, son."  
  
"I'm remembering." Scott said quietly. "At least I'm trying to."  
  
"Remember what?"  
  
"All this." Scott swept his hand out so that it encompassed the scene before them. "I'm trying to remember, where the palm trees are, the shape of the pool, the position of the diving board, what the house looks like... I don't want to forget."  
  
"You won't I'm sure. Important memories stay with you forever. I can still see your mother as clearly as if I'd seen her yesterday."  
  
"Yes. But you've got things to remind you. You see faces everyday to remind you. 'Two eyes above a nose above a mouth.' References to remind you of the basic proportions of a face. Heck, you've got Virgil..."  
  
"You all have a little of your mother in you." Jeff interrupted gently. "Not only Virgil."  
  
"But you also have photos to remind you. I don't have any of those references anymore. Nothing to remind me of what a face looks like, what a tree looks like, what colour something is. I suppose everything's got an orange glow at the moment."  
  
Jeff looked about. The setting sun was indeed casting a glow over everything on the island. "It's closer to yellow tonight."  
  
"See, at the moment I can picture that. While we were in rehab they got an old guy to come talk to us. He'd been blind for decades. He said people would describe things to him, for example say something was yellow. And he couldn't remember what yellow was like, he couldn't visualise it. At the moment I can see Thunderbird Four, or Virgil's sash, or the daffodils in Grandma's garden and I know what yellow is like. But will I be able to do that in fifty years? Ten? This time next year?"  
  
It was something that Jeff hadn't thought about. The idea saddened him. "I wish I could do something to help. I'd spend every cent I have if I could bring your sight back."  
  
"I know you would. I've just got to get used to the fact that I'll never see yellow again. Or my family."  
  
They were silent for a moment.  
  
"What would you say," Jeff asked quietly, "if I said I was seriously considering shutting down International Rescue."  
  
"I'd say why didn't you have your head read while there were professionals about!" Scott exclaimed. "Why?"  
  
"Can't you guess?"  
  
"Because of what happened to me?"  
  
"Because of what happened to you. And because both you and Virgil were nearly killed in Regnad. And because Virgil almost died later in hospital!"  
  
"But he didn't. We're both still here. Maybe I'm not in one piece, but I don't want what happened to me to affect the work International Rescue does. And I know that if you asked Virgil he'd say the same."  
  
"But if something happened to one of your brothers, I'd have to live with the fact that I sent him to his death."  
  
But Scott was shaking his head. "No. He would have gone willingly, not because you gave an order. If it meant saving someone he would think sacrificing his life was worth it."  
  
Jeff sighed. "I don't know."  
  
"Well I do! Just before we started operations the five of us sat down to discuss this. And we all agreed that should something happen to one of us the other four would keep International Rescue going. We knew it would mean a major shake up, but we'd fight tooth and nail to keep the organisation operational. It's five lives versus, potentially, hundreds, and in the scheme of things one Tracy boy isn't that important."  
  
"One Tracy boy is important to me though..."  
  
"I know. And they're all important to me too. But we all agreed..."  
  
A gull wheeled overhead as it headed to it's evening roost.  
  
The sun dipped lower into the Pacific Ocean.  
  
Father and son leant on the balcony, each wrapped up in their own thoughts.  
  
"If I had a wish... if I could wish to see one thing or one person again... do you know what I'd want to see?" Scott asked quietly.  
  
Jeff ran various scenarios through his mind. "No."  
  
"Virgil." Scott said sadly. "I'd pick Virgil. Just to show him that I didn't mean what I said the other week... He did tell you what I said, didn't he?"  
  
"Yes he did." Jeff was quiet too.  
  
"He said you weren't very happy with me."  
  
"That's putting it mildly. But I thought you'd both come to a reconciliation over that."  
  
"We haven't really discussed it. We went into the afternoon session and I hit him. He said he's forgiven me for that... and everything seemed to be okay... but..."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"He's never said anything, or done anything, but every now and then I..." Scott struggled to find the words, "...I sense that something's wrong. It's as if he's suddenly remembered what I said and draws back from me. It's only for a moment and I'm not even sure if it's real or I'm imagining it."  
  
Jeff hadn't noticed anything amiss. "His arm's still giving him some problems. Maybe that's it. You should talk to him about it."  
  
"And if I am imagining it? I might re-open old wounds and make him really hate me."  
  
"I don't think Virgil could ever hate you. If it is eating at him he needs to get it out of his system. By the same token, if it's still worrying you, you should talk to him for your own sake."  
  
Scott looked unhappy. "I couldn't."  
  
"Scott..."  
  
From inside the lounge they heard the piano start to play. Virgil had started his evening practise session.  
  
"Well I'm not achieving anything standing here." Scott pushed himself away from the handrail. "I'm going to go and reacquaint myself with one of the hangers."  
  
Jeff knew that Scott had made up his mind to ignore the problem, hoping that it would go away. "If you're going to do that would you mind getting Alan for me? I want to go over the specs for the new space rescue pods. I think he's in Thunderbird Three's hanger at the moment."  
  
"Sure. Glad to do something useful."  
  
***  
  
"Is anyone there?"  
  
Scott was looking for Alan in Thunderbird Three's hanger and was surprised to hear his brother's voice come from somewhere off to his right. "Alan?"  
  
"Scott. Is that you?"  
  
"Where are you Alan?"  
  
"In the electronics room." Scott thought his youngest brother sounded a touch embarrassed.  
  
"Well Father wants you. He wants to go over some design modifications in the space rescue pods."  
  
"And he couldn't radio me?"  
  
Scott was wondering why Alan didn't come out of the room. "I said I needed the practise finding my way about... Come on Alan. You know he doesn't like waiting."  
  
"I can't."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"The electronic lock's fused on this side. I can't get the door open." Alan's embarrassment at being trapped was plain to hear now. "Can you get Virgil or Brains to open it up?"  
  
"Gordon's closer." Scott said innocently.  
  
"NO! Not Gordon! Anyone but Gordon, if he find's out he'll never let me live it down."  
  
Scott took sympathy on his brother. "Let me see what I can do."  
  
"Wouldn't it be simpler if you got help? Like you said Dad doesn't like being kept waiting."  
  
"Hang on Alan," Scott said lightly, "I'm not that hopeless that I can't remember how to punch in a key code." He found his way over to the panel and ran his fingers over it re-familiarising himself with the buttons positions. "Okay, fingers crossed." He entered the code and stepped back.   
  
There was an optimistic hum, but the door remained closed.  
  
"Sounds like you got the code right, but there's something jamming the door." Alan said.  
  
"Hang on, let me check about." Scott used his cane to tap around the door. "Something's fallen in front. It feels like that filing cabinet Father's been at you to shift. Looks like it's finally fallen over."  
  
"Can you shift it?"  
  
"Alan! It's full of files and weighs a ton empty. I'll have to get help."  
  
As if on cue a sound behind him made him turn. It was Virgil. "Have you found Alan? Father's starting to get annoyed."  
  
"I'm in here Virgil."  
  
Virgil looked at the filing cabinet. "Nice one Alan. Now you know why Father's been at you to shift and stabilise it."  
  
"I know Virg. Just get me out!"  
  
"Virgil!" Scott said. "You go get the pallet truck and I'll see if I can find the jack. That's if Alan's been putting his tools away in the correct places..."  
  
"I have."   
  
"I don't know Scott. Maybe we should let him sweat a bit longer. Make sure he's learned his lesson."  
  
Alan wasn't impressed at the thought. "Come on guys, Dad's waiting."  
  
Whistling lightly to himself Virgil went to get the pallet truck.   
  
Scott moved to his left. If he remembered correctly the jack should be under a bench around about... "Here!" he said triumphantly as his hand closed about the handle.  
  
He carried the jack back to where Virgil was waiting. "There you are Virg. Stick it where it's got to go. Then I'll operate the jack while you slip the truck under it."  
  
"Okay." Virgil agreed. "You ready?"  
  
"Yep." Deftly Scott operated the jack and slowly the cabinet rose high enough that Virgil was able to position the truck underneath.  
  
"Right. You can remove the jack." Virgil said.  
  
"Do I need to support the cabinet from this end as you pull it out of the way?" Scott asked.  
  
"It would make it easier."  
  
"Right." Scott collapsed his cane to a size where it would fit into his pocket and then felt his way around to the end of the cabinet and braced himself. "You steer."  
  
Now the filing cabinet was easy to move and they quickly got it clear of the door.  
  
"Now to enter that code again." Scott once again pushed the keys.  
  
The door slid open.  
  
"There you are." Scott said. "Easy!"  
  
"Thanks fellas" Alan said gratefully. "I was thinking I'd have to radio for help. That would have been too embarrassing. Especially if Gordon had heard."  
  
"Any time kiddo." Scott said smiling.  
  
"I'd better go. Thanks again." Alan said as he jogged from the hanger. Scott followed at a slower pace.  
  
Virgil watched them both leave, a thoughtful frown creasing his face. It might work. He'd have a word with Brains first. 


	16. Forty Seven

Forty Seven - BF  
  
"Ah, Brains! There you are!" Virgil wandered into the lab.  
  
Brains had his head buried in a box that housed some sensitive equipment. "Virgil." He acknowledged, his voice muffled by the box.  
  
"I was wondering." Virgil began. "Would it be possible to modify Mobile Control so that Scott could use it?"  
  
Brains raised his head so that only his spectacle-framed eyes were visible above the lid. He blinked at Virgil owlishly. "Pardon?"  
  
Virgil tried again. "Would it be possible to modify Mobile Control so that Scott could use it?"  
  
"M-Modify Mobile Control? What does M-Mr Tracy say about this?"  
  
"What does Mr Tracy say about what?" Jeff Tracy said genially as he walked into the lab and dropped some papers on a bench. "There's our notes on the space rescue pods."  
  
"Ah, th-thank you." Brains looked at Virgil and didn't answer the question.  
  
This piqued Jeff's curiosity. "Well?"  
  
"I just asked Brains..." Virgil started hesitantly.  
  
"Yes." Jeff prompted.  
  
"If he could modify Mobile Control so that Scott could use it?" Virgil repeated for the third time.  
  
Jeff frowned. "Are you serious?"  
  
Virgil nodded.   
  
"Why?" his father asked.  
  
"I think Scott could still be of use on rescues..."  
  
But Jeff was shaking his head. "No. Out of the question."  
  
"But why, Father?"  
  
"He'd be in the middle of the danger zone. It'd be too dangerous, both for Scott and anyone about him."  
  
"I'm not talking about him being on the front line. There's no reason why he can't continue being the Rescue Co-ordinator from Mobile Control."  
  
"What does Scott think about this?"  
  
"I haven't mentioned it to him."  
  
"Then don't! The idea's absurd."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"The Rescue Co-ordinator needs to be able to access all the information available to him. And that means being able to see it!"  
  
"Not all the information comes in visual form. A lot is from what we tell him over the radio. Then there's optical character recognition and voice recognition software that could convert any information he's given into something he can use. And I don't see why all information received couldn't be transmitted to Thunderbird Five. It would give John something to do other than listen to us. He could be a back up..."  
  
"How on earth did you get such a harebrained idea?" Jeff asked.  
  
"I was the Rescue Co-ordinator on the last rescue, remember. All I did most of the time was cool my heels and listen in to what Alan and Gordon were up to. They were underground so I couldn't see what was happening. I had to rely on their reports and what information was being fed to Mobile Control..."  
  
"I'm not going to listen to any more of this." Jeff snapped.  
  
Virgil determined that he was not going to lose his cool. "Please hear me out. Surely Brains could set up Mobile Control so that all information is displayed in tactile and audio form."  
  
"Virgil..." Jeff protested.  
  
Virgil continued on gamely. "The way things are at the moment, we've only got three operatives able to carry out rescues and if one has to remain at Mobile Control..."  
  
"There's always Brains and Tin-Tin."  
  
"Capable, but their talents are better used elsewhere. As I was saying, if one has to remain at Mobile Control and someone's injured or on leave we're seriously understaffed. If Scott's on Mobile Control that would free up the rest of us up to carry out the rescue."  
  
"How do you expect Scott to get out there? He can't fly Thunderbird One and he can't travel in Thunderbird Two. The whole point of One was to get things organised before you arrived."  
  
"Someone else, lets say Alan or John, would pilot Thunderbird One, help Scott set up Mobile Control and be on hand to help when Thunderbird Two arrives."  
  
"Brains!" Jeff appealed to the engineer, who'd tried to keep out of the family argument by doodling ideas on some draft paper. "You can see the idea's ludicrous can't you."  
  
Brains looked up. "O-On the contrary M-Mr Tracy. I-I think the idea has some merit."  
  
"Then you can modify Mobile Control?" Virgil asked.  
  
Brains nodded. "I've already been w-working with Scott on some of the suggestions you've made." He noted their surprised expressions and added quickly. "N-Not for International Rescue's benefit, j-just for day-to-day use. B-But they could be m-modified certainly."  
  
"Great!" Virgil smiled. "What do you think Father?"  
  
"No! Absolutely not! I'm not exposing International Rescue to ridicule."  
  
Virgil stood there with his mouth hanging open. "Is that what's worrying you? That we'll lose credibility just because the rescue is co-ordinated by someone who's blind."  
  
Jeff's already deep frown got even deeper. "People have to be able to trust us. How can they if they are dealing with someone who can't see them, can't see what's going on?"  
  
Virgil folded his arms firmly, trying to keep his temper in check. "You know what that is don't you. It's discrimination. You're discriminating against your own son."  
  
"No I'm trying to protect him and the organisation."  
  
"I think Scott can look out for himself. As for International Rescue, I thought we were bigger than that."  
  
"While Scott can't see..." Jeff started.  
  
It was too much for Virgil. "For Pete's sake! Can't anyone in this household say the word. He's blind! It's not that big a word and it's something we've all got to get used to."  
  
"Virgil!" Jeff anger was obvious.  
  
"Did Alan tell you why he was late getting to your meeting tonight?" Virgil asked.  
  
"He got stuck in the electronics room when the door fused." Jeff said wondering what this had to do with anything.  
  
"Right!" Virgil noted that Alan had obviously omitted a few facts when giving the explanation to his father. "And who got him out?"  
  
"You and Scott."  
  
"Right! Me AND Scott. Scott was first there. He ascertained what was wrong and what was needed. By the time I got there Scott had it all worked out. He told me to get the... necessary equipment and found some of it himself. He couldn't see the problem, but he solved it. I believe he can still be our Rescue Co-ordinator and operate Mobile Control!" Virgil decided that there wasn't any use in pushing the point any further. If his father wasn't prepared to accept the idea then he'd have to leave it, for now anyway.  
  
Jeff thought for a moment. "What do the other's think?" he said finally.  
  
"I don't know. I haven't discussed it with them. I wanted to see if Mobile Control could be modified first"  
  
"We'll have to check. If they're uncomfortable with the idea it'll never work."  
  
Virgil stared at his father. "You're prepared to give it a go?"  
  
"If Scott's got 100 percent support. If he hasn't it just won't work. And there's something else I think you haven't thought of Virgil?"  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"What if Scott doesn't want to do it?"  
  
***  
  
Half an hour later Jeff called a meeting in the lounge. Brains was keeping Scott out of the way by agreeing to discuss the plans for some aids he'd come up with.  
  
"Hi John." Alan greeted his older brother, who was joining them via his portrait.  
  
"Hi kiddo. Watcha done wrong this time?"  
  
"Nothing!" Alan protested.  
  
"Yeah sure." Even from this distance John enjoyed giving his kid brothers a hard time.  
  
"What's up Dad?" Gordon flopped onto a seat and propped his feet up on the coffee table. His Grandmother quickly swatted them down again.  
  
"I've called you together because I want to sound you out on a few things." Jeff began cautiously. "How would you feel about Scott taking over Mobile Control again?"  
  
"What! No way!" Alan exclaimed. But it was an exclamation of disbelief rather than dismay.  
  
"But how?" John said.  
  
"You mean out there... while we're on a rescue?" Gordon asked.  
  
Jeff nodded. "Brains thinks he can modify Mobile Control so that Scott can use it."  
  
"What does Scott think?" Alan asked.  
  
"He doesn't know." Jeff admitted. "I wanted to see how you feel about it first."  
  
"It's a risk isn't it?" Gordon said.  
  
"A calculated one. Obviously he'd have to be fully trained up again. We'd have to be sure that he was totally confident that he could do the job. We were thinking of routing all the information to Thunderbird Five so that John could keep an eye on things."  
  
"But is it safe Jeff?" his mother wanted to know.  
  
"No. But then it never was. And Mobile Control is safer than doing the rescue itself."  
  
"But Mobile Control has to be first on the scene..." Alan started.  
  
"The thought was that you, or John, and Scott would fly to the danger zone in Thunderbird One and you could help him set up." Jeff sat back. "I'd like to know you're thoughts. Do you think it could work? Gordon?"  
  
"I-I don't know. It sounds great but..." he shrugged.  
  
Jeff left him "John?"  
  
"It would give me more to do, which would be good." John said. "I think between the two of us we could handle it."  
  
"Alan?"  
  
"It'd be great to have Scott ordering us about again..." Alan turned to Virgil who was standing off to one side, arms folded, watching proceedings. "But what about you Virg.? You haven't said anything."   
  
"It was Virgil's idea." Jeff informed them.  
  
"You just want to get control of Thunderbird Two again!" Gordon accused. "But I think it's worth a shot Dad. See how Scott goes in simulated situations and then make the decision."  
  
Virgil smiled. Just as he'd thought, all his brothers had welcomed the idea. 


	17. Forty Eight

Forty Eight - BF  
  
Thunderbird One made a near perfect landing. As it's motors died away Alan unbuckled his safety harness and climbed out of the pilots seat. "We're here big brother. Ready for your introduction to the world?"  
  
"Ready as I'll ever be." Scott retrieved his cane and stood up. He'd been more than a little surprised, all those months ago, when his father had suggested that he resume control of Mobile Control.  
  
"What do you think Scott? Do you want to do it?"  
  
Did he want to do it? Virgil had told him he had to decide what he was going to do with his life and from the moment he'd heard his father's words he'd known exactly what that was. That his father and brothers had faith in him had been a good feeling. That he was going to be doing something worthwhile with International Rescue was an even better one.  
  
Alan stood beside Scott and offered his arm. "May I escort you to the ball?"  
  
"Depends on how good a dancer you are?"  
  
"I'm pretty nimble on my feet." They reached the hatch. "Okay. Here we go!"  
  
The warm sun fell on their faces when they went outside. Scott heard footsteps coming towards them. "International Rescue! Thank g..." The voice petered off.   
  
Scott had a feeling he'd better get used to that reaction. He extended his hand in greeting. "Who do we have the pleasure of dealing with?"  
  
"Oh, uh. I'm Doctor Hughes. I'm the medical officer in charge of St. Helena Hospital."  
  
"Pleased to meet you." Scott said. "We're going to have to get our equipment set up. Where have the emergency services set up their base?"  
  
"In the lecture theatre."  
  
"Okay. We'll move our communications gear into there." Scott said.  
  
"I'll take care of that." Alan said. "You okay?"  
  
"Yeah sure. If the good doctor doesn't mind leading me?"  
  
"Of course." Doctor Hughes allowed Scott to take his arm.  
  
Alan disappeared back into Thunderbird One. Doctor Hughes and Scott started to make their way over to the rescue headquarters.  
  
"We're really grateful that International Rescue are able to help." The Doctor was saying. "One of the seven people trapped has asthma. The dust is aggravating it and she doesn't have her inhaler with her."  
  
"Okay, I'll make sure we have the appropriate medical equipment. Anything else I should know about?"  
  
"One of the others is trapped under a beam. They don't think he's badly hurt, just unable to free himself." They turned the corner. "What we are really worried about is the wall that looks as if its going to collapse onto where they're trapped."  
  
"Okay." Scott was already formulating a few plans. "Once we're set up we can decide on the best course of action."  
  
They continued on walking a few paces. "W-We have met before." The Doctor said hesitantly. Scott tried to remain calm, thinking the man was going to mention a time away from International Rescue. "I was involved with another rescue of yours," Scott relaxed, "but you could... you were..."  
  
"I could see then?" Scott offered. "That would figure. Don't tell anyone else but this is my first time on duty since the accident. Don't panic though, we've put plenty of backups in place."  
  
"Work related?"  
  
"Yeah. I'm sorry but I can't place you. Which rescue was it?" Scott asked companionably.  
  
"I was in charge of the medical team during the rescue from Regnad Corporation. There were seven scientists trapped..."  
  
Scott had stopped walking.  
  
The Doctor turned to face him. "What's wrong. You look as if... Oh no! It wasn't then was it?"  
  
Scott nodded. "Yeah. That's where it happened."  
  
"I'm so sorry. I didn't know. We didn't realise anyone had been injured."  
  
Scott started walking again. "That's okay. We have our own medical personnel. It helps with security."  
  
"We thought your Thunderbirds were staying for a long time. But we didn't consider that anyone had been hurt. What happened?"  
  
"It was when the second generator exploded. I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."  
  
"I hope no one else was hurt."  
  
"Not initially. But one of our other operatives did suffer injuries trying to get me out."  
  
The Doctor groaned. "I feel terrible. If we'd only known."  
  
"There was nothing you could have done. Don't feel bad."  
  
"I know it's small conciliation, but they've punished some people pretty severely for what happened." They arrived in the lecture theatre. "Here's your colleague."  
  
Alan got Mobile Control into position. "If you can take care of the set up Scott, I'll go scout about."  
  
"Okay. Thanks Alan."  
  
It didn't take Scott long to get Mobile Control set up so that he could use it. He borrowed copies of maps, site plans and building blueprints and scanned them so that he could read them. He got reports from everyone he could and fed the information into the system via voice recognition software and a Braille keyboard.  
  
Alan came back. "Here's what I saw Scott. Are you reading us John?"  
  
"Sure am Alan." From Thunderbird Five John was getting a visual representation of what Alan was explaining.  
  
Alan started drawing with his finger on a pad on Mobile Control. Scott placed his hand flat on another section and could feel every line Alan made. "Five floors have collapsed. The outer wall is still standing and seems to be only supported by two cross beams." He drew the appropriate lines on his diagram. Scott nodded his understanding. "I was talking to an engineer and he said that the trapped people are three floors below ground, directly under this collapsed section. If that wall goes, it'll probably fall inwards and crush everything and everyone beneath it."  
  
  
  
"So we'll need The Domo to hold the wall in place?" Scott asked.  
  
"I'd say so."  
  
"I know Thunderbird Two's got The Mole. I'll double check on The Domo." Scott opened the radio frequency. "Mobile Control to Thunderbird Two."  
  
"Thunderbird Two. Go ahead Mobile Control." Virgil's voice was as clear as if he were standing there. "Receiving you strength five."  
  
"What equipment do you have on board?"  
  
"We are carrying both 'Mole' and 'Domo'."  
  
"Good. Thanks. Mobile Control out." Scott brought up a map. "Alan, double check this for me will you? We've got a flat area here," he pointed at the map, "where The Domo could work from, and The Mole could start tunnelling from here."  
  
Alan looked over Scott's shoulder. "Looks spot on to me."  
  
Doctor Hughes cleared his throat. "If you'll excuse me, I'll go check on my team."  
  
"Fine. Thanks Doctor." Scott listened to the Doctors footsteps recede. "Okay, we're all set. All we need is Thunderbird Two." Scott took a deep breath and opened the channel that linked him to Thunderbird Two. "Mobile Control to Thunderbird Two. Come in Virgil."  
  
"Thunderbird Two. How's it going?" Scott's use of his name had caused Virgil to relax procedures a little.  
  
"So far so good. Everything's working well, Alan didn't crash Thunderbird One, and I'm feeling good."  
  
"So you should be. You've been practising hard enough. Now you're back in the saddle again it'll be like old times."  
  
"What's your ETA?"  
  
"16 point two five minutes. Any instructions?"  
  
Scott felt the map on Mobile Control. He didn't know how Brains had done it, but somehow he'd got it set up so that the map could be felt in 3D. "Come in to land at reference 18G-5. I'll give you further instructions soon."  
  
"F-A-B."  
  
Scott shut down the communications link. He DID feel good. He was in control. He knew what was going on. Thunderbird Two was on its way and he knew that Virgil was confident in his ability to do the job.  
  
Virgil was, in fact, a mess of nerves. Scott didn't know that it was Virgil who had suggested that Scott be reinstated in the role of Rescue Co-ordinator. The battle had been won, but Virgil knew that should Scott make a mistake, Virgil would have no one to blame but himself. And a mistake could mean the loss of innocent lives.  
  
Flying with Virgil in Thunderbird Two, Gordon noticed his brother's apprehension. "He'll be fine, don't worry. Look at all the practise he's had. John'll keep an eye on him. And Scott's not too proud to ask for help if he needs it."  
  
"Yeah, but what if he doesn't realise that he needs it?"  
  
"Relax will ya. You're the one who said we've got to let Scott do things for himself. He'll be fine."  
  
"Course he will." Virgil said with a sudden burst of confidence. "I don't know what I'm worried about. It's Scott we're talking about after all." 


	18. Forty Nine

Forty Nine - BF  
  
Everything had gone smoothly. Thunderbird Two's landing place, the position where The Domo had to operate from and The Mole's drilling place had been, in Alan's words, 'Spot on'.  
  
Virgil was seated in The Domo. The Demolition and Object Moving Operator was doing its job well. The wall was gently being pulled away from the pile of rubble that it had threatened to fall on. Virgil used his left hand to adjust the tension on the artificial gravity suction pads. It was a constant challenge, keeping the tension exactly right, while his right hand operated the amount of thrust coming from The Domo's motors.  
  
He'd been doing it for just on two hours and the muscles in his arms were starting to complain. Especially his left. His first job back on full duties wasn't physically demanding, but was still taking its toll.  
  
***  
  
Back on Tracy Island Jeff Tracy stared at the row of portraits and drummed his fingers irritability. He still wasn't 100 percent convinced that Scott was up to it, but as his other sons had been more than happy to have their big brother back on the job he'd kept his concerns to himself.  
  
It was all that he could do to stop himself from calling Mobile Control every five minutes for a progress report. As it was he contented himself with calling John in Thunderbird Five every half hour, and beating a tattoo on the desk.  
  
"Jeff will you stop that!" his mother finally said with a trace of irritation in her voice.  
  
"Stop what?" he asked absently.  
  
"That infernal noise."  
  
"What noise?"  
  
She stood up and walked over to the desk, before pressing his hand into the desktop. "Keep those fingers still!"  
  
He looked at where her small, wrinkled hand covered his larger one. "Oh. Sorry Mother."  
  
"He'll be fine." She said reassuringly squeezing his hand. "They all will. They know what they are doing. First sign of trouble and John will take over!"  
  
"I know." He looked at her kindly face and then back at the portraits. "I think I'll give John a call..."  
  
She gave an exasperated sigh. "You'll drive the poor boy to distraction. And Scott will think you don't trust him. And you do don't you Jeff... Jeff?" She peered closely into his face.  
  
He looked away.  
  
"Jeff Tracy!" she scolded. "You've never been happy with Scott being Rescue Co-ordinator again, have you!"  
  
Somewhat shamefaced he managed to look at her. "No. Sorry, Mother." He repeated  
  
"It's not me you should be apologising to. It's Scott! You realise that you're the only one who doesn't think he can do it!"  
  
"It's not that I don't think that he can do it... It's that... I don't know... This whole rescue has got me worried..."  
  
***  
  
Alan and Gordon had broken through to the basement where the people were trapped. It had taken a long time for The Mole to reach its destination. They'd dug down deep to avoid the foundations and to reduce the amount of vibrations to the building. They were painfully aware of how tenuous The Domo's grasp on the wall was. The last few metres had been tunnelled at a speed that was little more than a crawl.  
  
The door from The Mole slid open. "Come on." Alan urged "Lets go find them."  
  
Gordon grabbed an oxygen cylinder and followed his younger brother out the door. Together they exited the room they'd surfaced in and made their way down a hallway to where they'd assumed those trapped would be.  
  
The door was jammed shut.  
  
"Better use the laser on it." Gordon instructed and Alan fired the tool into life. In a short space of time the door was falling away from them.  
  
It landed in a cloud of dust.  
  
Six pair of eyes blinked at them, the seventh was hidden behind some debris.  
  
Gordon grabbed the oxygen cylinder and ran over to where one lady was being support by two of her colleagues. She was clearly struggling to breathe. "Just relax." He said kindly. "We'll have you out of here shortly." Deftly he slipped the oxygen mask over her nose and mouth. He watched her face start to relax as breathing became easier. "Feeling better?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
Alan was checking on the trapped man. "How're you feeling?" he asked. "Have you got any pain anywhere?"  
  
"No, I haven't, young man. I just can't move my blessed legs. There's something holding them down."  
  
Alan examined the chunk of concrete that lay across the lower half of the victim. "I'll need a hand for moving this. I'll get my colleague." He turned to where his brother was assisting the asthma victim over to the door. "Gordon! I'll need your assistance, and a couple of jacks."  
  
"Okay. I'll bring them back with me." Gordon acknowledged.  
  
Seeing that the other five victims were trailing after Gordon, Alan concentrated on clearing as much debris as he dared from around the trapped man. As he did so he kept on talking, engaging the victim in conversation to keep him calm. "So what's your role in the hospital?"  
  
"I'm a mortuary attendant."  
  
This floored Alan for a moment. "Oh... That would be... interesting. Is that where we are? The mortuary?" He tried not to imagine that he was surrounded by dead bodies.  
  
The man chuckled. "No. This is a storage area. Things had been pretty quiet in my department, so I was helping out here."  
  
"I would have thought things would always be quiet in your 'department'." Alan said.  
  
The man chuckled again. He seemed to be way too cheerful a chap to be working in the mortuary. "True, we don't get too many complaints from our 'guests'." A shower of dust sprinkled down on them from the ceiling. "How safe is that roof?" he asked showing some concern.  
  
Alan was reassuring. "Don't worry. We've got it under control."  
  
"Well that's grand. I really admire you guys, risking your necks for people you don't even know. If only there were more people in the world like you. Unselfish."  
  
"We just do what we can." Alan admitted looking at his watch. How long had Gordon been?  
  
Gordon was making sure his charges were safely seated in The Mole. He also radioed Scott to check how things were holding up.  
  
"Virgil's reporting that one of the suction pads seems to be coming loose," Scott's disembodied voice told him. "Better get a move on."  
  
"F-A-B." Gordon acknowledged and once again left The Mole. He reached the door they'd just cut open when there was a rumbling sound from above them. Instinctively he crouched down to protect himself.  
  
Alan was also aware of the rumbling. As debris started to rain down he threw himself over the sole remaining victim, becoming a human shield. Through his wristwatch telecom he realised that Virgil was yelling something about suction pad two having slipped. It was the last thing he was aware of before the chunk of concrete caught him on the head and knocked him unconscious... 


	19. Fifty

Fifty - BF  
  
The rumbling sound stopped and rubble stopped falling. Gordon got to his feet and peered through the dust that still floated in the air. He could hear someone calling.  
  
"Help me! Help him! Please!"  
  
Gordon became aware of a dusty blue coloured figure lying still in the gloom. He ran over. "Alan!"  
  
He was more than a little relieved when Alan groaned.  
  
"He's alright!" The man Alan had tried to protect sounded just as relieved. "When I saw that lump hit him I thought the worst."  
  
"Take it easy Alan." Gordon assisted his younger brother so that his weight was no longer on the trapped man. "Are you okay?"  
  
Alan coughed. "Yeah. I think so."  
  
"Were you knocked out?"  
  
Alan seemed a touch confused. "I don't know. Maybe."  
  
Gordon held up his hand. "How many fingers am I holding up?"  
  
"Three." Alan said correctly. "I'm okay Gordon. Just a slight headache. Don't worry, just help me get this guy out of here."  
  
"Okay." Gordon handed him a jack and watched him closely. Alan had no trouble positioning the jack and then waited for Gordon to position his so they could be operated in tandem.  
  
In no time the last victim was freed. They assisted him back to The Mole. He sank gratefully into one of the seats and Alan assisted him with his safety harness. "Thank you." He said simply.  
  
The trip back to the surface was uneventful. "We're clear, Virgil." Gordon radioed.  
  
"F-A-B." Virgil relaxed his grip on The Domo's controls. The remaining suction cups slipped away and the wall fell forwards crushing everything beneath it.  
  
Scott heard the crash of the falling wall and breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"Whew!" Doctor Hughes echoed his thoughts. "Thank heavens your machine held!"  
  
Scott was already mentally preparing what needed to be done before they returned home. "Do you need our help anywhere else?"  
  
"No that's all." Doctor Hughes said as he watched Virgil steer The Domo into the pod. "Once we've got the victims out of your 'Mole' machine you can head home. With our thanks."  
  
"It's our pleasure." Scott's attention was arrested by a voice coming out of Mobile Control.  
  
"'Mole' to Mobile Control."  
  
"Go ahead Gordon."  
  
"We're about to surface. No real injuries, but it wouldn't hurt for the asthma victim to get checked over."  
  
"Good thanks Gordon."  
  
"Just one thing Scott..."  
  
Scott frowned. Gordon had lowered his voice so that it wasn't so easily heard. "Yeah?"  
  
"A chunk of concrete hit Alan on the head. He says he's fine, but I think he was knocked out briefly."  
  
"Does he seem to be okay?"  
  
"Seems fine. Claims he's got a bit of a headache, but his reflexes are okay and he seems to be thinking clearly."  
  
"Okay Gordon. We'll see how he is when you've got everything packed away."  
  
Virgil had made his way over to Mobile Control. Scott didn't see him rubbing his forearm. "Trouble?" he asked.  
  
"I don't know." Scott admitted. "Gordon thinks Alan was knocked out briefly. But he seems to be okay."  
  
Virgil grinned. "You never know. You might have to fly Thunderbird One home!"  
  
Scott chuckled. "I wish."  
  
"How about you?" Virgil asked. "Things seemed to go okay here. Any problems?"  
  
"No. Things went well."  
  
"I knew you could do it."  
  
Doctor Hughes cleared his throat, and Scott remembered that the doctor was still there. "Virgil. This is Doctor Hughes. He's the Chief Medical Officer here." Scott paused. "He was also in charge of the medical team at Regnad Corp."  
  
Virgil had stretched his hand out in greeting when he froze. "Regnad Corp?"  
  
"Yes." Doctor Hughes said embarrassedly.  
  
"Virgil was the other operative I was telling you about." Scott said casually.  
  
"Oh! I'm so sorry." The Doctor said apologetically.   
  
Virgil dismissed the apology with a wave of his hand. "These things happen."  
  
"I wish I could make it up to you... Wait a minute!" Then the doctor started ferreting about in his pockets. He pulled out a personal digital assistant and a pen and paper. "This is the name and number of a Professor," he said slowly as he scribbled from the PDA onto the paper, "who has done a lot of research into retinal burns. No guarantee's mind you." He added as he passed the piece of paper to Virgil.  
  
"We've tried everywhere." Scott said.  
  
"I'm sure you've tried all the mainstream medical establishments." Doctor Hughes told him. "But Professor Bunsen shuns the mainstream. Don't let his, ah, eccentricities put you off. He's a genius. If anyone can help you he can. I promise that I won't mention this to him or anyone else."  
  
"Thanks." Scott said, not sure what to think.  
  
"I'd better get back, but I have to say thank you. To you and all your team." Doctor Hughes said. "At least talk to Professor Bunsen. Goodbye." He finished awkwardly and then hurried away.   
  
Virgil looked at the paper and then pressed it into Scott's hand. "What do you reckon?" he asked.  
  
Scott gripped the paper tightly for a moment and then shoved it into his pocket. "I don't know. I've kinda got used to being blind. I don't know if I want to go through all the hope, fear and pain again." 


	20. Fifty One

Fifty One - BF  
  
Virgil looked at the pilot's seat and the controls that he would need to use. He came to a decision. "Gordon!"  
  
"Yeah Virg.?"  
  
"How'd you like to fly Two home?"  
  
"Fly Two? Me? Why?"  
  
"Guess I'm not up to full match fitness yet. My arms a little sore..."  
  
"Your arm!" Gordon was more than a little concerned. For any of the Tracy boys to voluntarily relinquish control of their craft was almost unheard of. "Is it okay?"  
  
"Yeah, it's fine. I guess I can't expect to hold up a concrete wall for nearly three hours and not feel a few aches and pains. It's been a while since I've been on full duties remember."  
  
"If you're sure." Gordon said hesitantly.  
  
"I'm sure." Virgil gave him a light push. "Go on before I change my mind." He headed to a passenger seat as Gordon eagerly slid into the pilot's position.   
  
"Thunderbird Two to Thunderbird One. Preparing for lift off."  
  
"Gordon! What are you doing? Where's Virgil?" Alan was clearly surprised.  
  
"Having a rest. He says he's getting too old for this game. The old boys are falling apart, they just can't hack the pace anymore..."  
  
"Hey!" Virgil protested, "I can change my mind you know."  
  
"No chance. I'm here now. You'll only get me out of this seat with a crowbar. See you at home, Alan."  
  
"Race you!"  
  
"Don't you dare!" Virgil threatened his replacement.  
  
Gordon chuckled and Virgil watched him run through the start up procedure, and then, with the confidence born of hours of practice in the simulator, set the great plane in motion.  
  
Minutes later they were easily overtaken by Thunderbird One.  
  
"Darn, he's beating us." Gordon commented lightly.  
  
Virgil tried flexing his fingers. The muscles in his left arm had really locked up. He hoped that they'd relax before he got back to base. He didn't want to take the chance that he'd be sidelined from the next mission.  
  
He hadn't noticed any improvement when Gordon spoke. "Hey! I've got a visual on Thunderbird One."  
  
"What? They should be almost home by now." Virgil came and stood at Gordon's shoulder. "Where are they?"  
  
Gordon pointed to the radar and then out the cockpit window. "Doesn't that look like them?"  
  
"Yes!" Virgil automatically reached for the radio. "Thunderbird Two to Thunderbird One. Come in Alan!"  
  
***  
  
The lift off from the danger zone had gone smoothly, Scott reflected. Alan could fly Thunderbird One nearly as good as he'd been able to. He sat back in his seat and tried to reconcile himself to the idea of someone else flying his plane.  
  
"Hey there's Thunderbird Two." Alan had said. "We passing them... now! So long suckers, eat our dust."  
  
Scott chuckled.  
  
They hadn't said much over the intervening minutes until Scott detected that Thunderbird One was slowing down.  
  
"Ah, Scott..." Something in Alan's voice, coupled with a change in motor sounds made Scott sit up. "I'm not feeling too good. Mind if we just hover a bit?"  
  
"What do you mean 'not feeling too good'?" Thunderbird One had stopped its forward motion so Scott felt safe in unbuckling his harness and moving over to the pilot's seat.  
  
"I'm... feeling a... little... dizzy." Alan gulped. The cabin was spinning and growing darker. He felt nauseous. The sounds of Thunderbird One were receding into the background.  
  
Scott found his brother's head. "Hey! You're sweating. Lie down on the floor for a bit."  
  
"Yeah... I... think... I... migh..." Alan lost his battle to retain consciousness.  
  
"Alan. Alan!" Scott felt for a pulse. It was still there, but Alan was out cold. 


	21. Fifty Two

Fifty Two - BF  
  
Scott took stock of the situation and reminded himself of the whereabouts of the sensitive hover controls. He then managed to grab Alan about the chest and wrestle him out of the seat and onto the floor of Thunderbird One, and into the recovery position. During all this there was no improvement in Alan's condition. Scott found Thunderbird One's onboard first aid kit and retrieved the vital signs monitor and emergency blanket. Treading carefully so that he wouldn't kick his brother he worked his way back to where Alan lay and applied the VSM. A reassuring beep assured him that there was no further deterioration in Alan's condition. He covered his youngest brother in the blanket to keep him warm.  
  
Time to get help. "Thunderbird One to Thunderbird Five."  
  
"Thunderbird Five. What are you up to Scott? Did you push Alan out of the pilot's seat?"  
  
"He's collapsed John. He's unconscious. Can you put me through to Father?"  
  
"Sure." Quickly John completed the circuit.  
  
Scott wasted no time in updating his father as to what had happened.  
  
"You s-said he took a blow to the h-head earlier." His father's voice was replaced by Brains stutter.  
  
"Yes. But that was at least an hour ago."  
  
"C-Could be delayed c-concussion. He sh-should get prompt medical attention."  
  
"That's kind of difficult at the moment, Brains" Scott reminded him. "I don't exactly qualify as a pilot now."  
  
"Thunderbird Two should be getting close to your position." Jeff said. "See if they can effect an air-to-air transfer."  
  
As if on cue Virgil's voice cut into the conversation. "Thunderbird Two to Thunderbird One. Come in Alan!"  
  
"Scott here Virg. We've got a problem. Alan's collapsed, possibly with delayed concussion. We've got to get him help. One of you two will have to come across and pilot Thunderbird One."  
  
Gordon shook his head and pointed at a gauge on Thunderbird Two's control panel. "We can't do it. Look at the wind speed."  
  
"Sorry Scott. An air to air transfer would be too dangerous at the moment." Virgil relayed back. "The wind speed's fluctuating between 35 and 45 knots."  
  
"We've got to do something! Any suggestions?"  
  
Virgil looked at Gordon. Gordon looked at Virgil.  
  
"Anyone?" Scott asked. "We can't stay up here till the winds die down."  
  
The silence was heavy on the airwaves.  
  
Virgil bit his lip. "There is one possibility." He said hesitantly.  
  
Scott smiled to himself. He knew Virgil wouldn't let him down. "Which is?"  
  
"You fly her."  
  
This time the silence was longer before being punctuated by Jeff. "Did I hear you correctly Virgil?"  
  
"I said that Scott could fly Thunderbird One."  
  
Scott swallowed. "I don't know about this Virg."  
  
"We both know you can fly in a straight line Scott. You've done it previously. We can keep an eye on your altitude and bearings from Thunderbird Two. We'll worry about landing when we get home. With any luck the winds won't be so strong and we can do a transfer there."  
  
"Fly home! It's one thing to do it with you standing at my shoulder, but by myself..."  
  
"You can do this Scott. We know you can. I'll be your eyes!" Virgil said. "Just take it slowly and don't do anything fancy. You'll be okay."  
  
"I guess I don't have any other option. Did you copy that Father?"  
  
"What's this about flying previously?"  
  
"I don't have time to explain now. I'll make an attempt. Just pray that I remember where everything is."  
  
"You'll be fine Scott." Gordon reassured him. "We'll keep an eye on you." He paused communication and looked at Virgil. "Do you want to take over Thunderbird Two now?"  
  
"No. You're doing fine. You concentrate on flying Two and I'll worry about Thunderbird One." They reinstated the communication link.  
  
"Okay, I'm ready." Scott took a deep breath. "Taking her out of hover mode. Moving... I think."  
  
"You're doing 50 miles per hour Scott." Virgil watched Thunderbird Two's speedometer as Gordon matched Thunderbird One's pace. "You need to change your bearing two degrees to the right."  
  
"How much is two degrees..." Scott started to ask.  
  
"That'll do!"  
  
Scott brought Thunderbird One back into a straight line again.  
  
Back on Tracy Island Jeff turned to Brains. "They're taking a risk."  
  
"B-But it's a calculated one. I-I'm happier w-with them doing this than w-waiting. The sooner Alan gets m-medical attention the better."  
  
"I guess you're right Brains. I'm just worried. Scott's looking out for two lives out there..."  
  
The further into the flight he got, the more confident Scott became. His speed increased to 100 miles per hour, 150... 200... 500... 1000... 5000 miles per hour.   
  
"Tell him to slow down." Gordon said. "He'll outpace us."  
  
Scott received the radio communication. "We're getting close to home, Scott." Vigil radioed through. "Start easing off your speed."  
  
Tracy Island was registering in the distance on the radar, steadily growing closer and closer.  
  
"Halve your speed. Good. Now one degree to the left. You're doing fine. Nearly there."  
  
"Good." Scott replied. "This is the worst trip I've had in her for a long time. What's the wind speed like?"  
  
"Only one knot, Scott." His father said. "The boys should be able to effect an air to air transfer, no problem."  
  
Vigil felt a knot form in his stomach. "Cut your speed. You're doing 500 miles per hour. 200... 125... 50... 10..." The last few miles were covered in a crawl.  
  
"You're over the runway Scott." Jeff announced. "Resume hover mode."  
  
Scott obeyed and let out the breath he'd been holding. "How're you doing Alan?" There was no reply except the steady beeping of the VSM.  
  
"H-How's Alan?" Brains asked.  
  
"He sound's okay, according to the VSM." Scott said. "But the sooner we get this transfer over and done with the happier I'll be."  
  
"Me too." Jeff agreed. "Are you boys ready?" he asked the crew of Thunderbird Two.  
  
"Do you want to pilot, while I do the transfer, or vice versa?" Gordon asked before noticing his brother's expression. "Virgil? What's wrong?"  
  
"I-I can't do either." Virgil said tightly. "I can't move my hand."  
  
"You what! Since when?"  
  
"Since the beginning of the trip. I-I hoped it'd be better by now."  
  
"Come in Thunderbird Two." Jeff called them.  
  
"What are we going to tell them?" Gordon asked, horror stricken.  
  
"The truth I guess." Virgil said miserably. "We've got so close..." He reached for the microphone. "Thunderbird Two to Thunderbird One and base. We can't effect an air-to-air transfer. I repeat. We can not effect air-to-air transfer."  
  
"Thunderbird Two. Am I hearing you correctly? You are unable to effect the transfer?" Jeff asked urgently.  
  
"That's right." Virgil confirmed unhappily.  
  
"But why?" Scott practically yelled into the mike.  
  
Virgil briefly weighed up the pros and cons of giving a full explanation. "It's not important. We'll explain later."  
  
"Not important!" Scott yelled and then calmed down somewhat. "Well what are we going to do now?"  
  
Jeff turned to his mother, Tin-Tin, Kyrano and Brains. "Any suggestions anyone?" 


	22. Fifty Three

Fifty Three - BF  
  
From his seat in the pilot's chair of Thunderbird Two, Gordon looked across at Thunderbird One. That Scott had managed to safely fly her this far was amazing. That there was now no way to land her was unthinkable.  
  
For some reason, a catch phrase of a decades old TV show sprang to mind.   
  
"Beam me up Scotty."  
  
He hadn't realised that he'd actually vocalised it and was surprised when Virgil answered. "Yeah. It would simplify things wouldn't it."  
  
"Except that you'd be left here unable to land Thunderbird Two."  
  
"That would be a problem."  
  
***  
  
Mrs Tracy was staring up at the rocket plane that held two of her grandsons. "He's flown so far. We can't stop now." She turned back to Jeff. "Surely it won't be that hard for him to land it himself... would it?" she finished uncertainly.  
  
"I don't know mother. Scott is... was... is a good pilot, but to land with no instrumentation..."  
  
"The early aviation pioneers didn't have instrumentation." She persisted stubbornly.  
  
"No." Jeff agreed. "But they could see where they were in relation to the ground." He looked over at the giant green bulk that was Thunderbird Two. "I wish they'd tell us what's..."  
  
"We're still waiting for ideas." Scott's voice interrupted his train of thought.  
  
"M-Mr Tracy." Brains said differentially. "I-I think Mrs Tracy may have the best solution at this time. There is no one else here able to u-undertake an air-to-air transfer."  
  
Jeff mulled it over for a moment. "Brains. Get everyone into the shelters." He said quietly before raising the microphone. He now spoke with more assurance, "Scott!"  
  
"Yes Father."  
  
"You've come this far. Do you think you could land her?"  
  
"Land her? I don't know. Flying is one thing, but landing..."  
  
"I'll talk you down. It'll be easier from the ground. You'll be okay." Jeff reassured him.  
  
"It's a good idea. You'll be fine, Scott." Virgil added.  
  
Scott rubbed his sweating hands on his trousers. "Do you guys think we can carry this off?"   
  
"I'm sure we can." His father sounded so reassuring.  
  
"Thunderbird Two to base. I'm handing control over to you Father." Virgil said.  
  
"Thanks Virgil. I want Thunderbird Two to stand clear..."  
  
"But..."  
  
"No buts Virgil. If anything should go wrong you and Gordon have got to be able to effect a rescue. I've already sent everyone else to safety. I want you out of the way and maintaining radio silence. Let him concentrate on what he's doing."  
  
"F-A-B" Virgil intoned with obvious reluctance.  
  
Scott, following his father's instructions brought Thunderbird One in low over the runway. Then he changed to hover mode.  
  
"Let me know when you're ready son."  
  
For the first time since he'd settled into the pilot's seat Scott began to have serious doubts about his ability to complete this manoeuvre successfully. "I-I don't think I can."  
  
"You can. You've got to Scott."  
  
"B-But what if I do something wrong. I've got no references to follow!"  
  
"Nothing will go wrong. Bring her in."  
  
"I-I can't." Scott's determination was leaving him.  
  
Jeff was still trying to talk Scott down. "You know what to do Scott. Lower her down ten feet and stop."  
  
"How will I know when it's ten feet?"  
  
"I'll tell you."  
  
"This is Thunderbird One, we're talking about, not a paper plane. If I miscalculate it's not only curtains for Alan and me, there's you and half the island as well." The stress was clear in Scott's voice.  
  
"Don't think of that Scott. Think of what you're doing."  
  
"I am!" Scott yelled. "And I can't do it!" to Jeff's horror he heard something that sounded like a sob.  
  
"He's losing it." Gordon said.  
  
"Do you blame him?" Virgil asked.  
  
Scott shut his eyes although it made no difference to the scene that he saw. His palms were sweaty, his uniform felt clammy, he was hyperventilating, his heart was racing. He hadn't felt like this since... since...  
  
...Since he had been trapped in that ventilation shaft, newly blinded, with the water creeping mercilessly towards them. Then, as now, he had a loved brother with him. Then, as now, that brother had been unconscious. Then, as now, he hadn't known how badly that brother was injured...  
  
A welcome voice cut through his reverie. Virgil had disobeyed his father's order to maintain radio silence. "Scott" he said quietly. "It's me. Virgil."  
  
"V-Virgil. I-I'm sorry. I can't do this."  
  
"Yes you can. You often said you could land Thunderbird One with your eyes shut. Now's your chance to show us."  
  
"I'm out of practise."  
  
"Scott you'll be fine. You've just flown her half way around the world. You're only metres away from safety. You've got to do this - for Alan." Virgil's voice was calm and composed. To Scott's ears it sounded as though he truly believed that his brother could land Thunderbird One safely.  
  
A new thought crept into Scott's mind. He took a breath to bring his emotions back under control. Last time he'd felt like this he'd been trapped and totally helpless. This time he COULD do something, and moreover, he would.  
  
He wiped his hands one more time. "Right! Let's do this!" There was a trace of the old steel in his voice.  
  
Jeff started talking. Trying to keep Scott focused, to keep him reassured. "Okay Scott. You're 50 feet up. Bring her down. A bit more. You're doing great. You can do this. We all have faith in you. You're at 30 feet. You're doing great son. Keep it up. You can do this..."  
  
Scott was starting to feel overwhelmed again. What with listening out for Thunderbird One's motors, the control panels warning bells, Alan's VSM and his father's continual reassurances, he was starting to lose control again.  
  
It was as if Virgil realised his situation, because once again Scott heard that calm voice. "Father. Just give him the details. Let him concentrate on the sounds of Thunderbird One. He'll know when to operate the VTOL jets instinctively. But he'll need to be able to hear the change in the sounds Thunderbird One is making... Scott. We can hear the VSM here on Thunderbird Two. We'll keep an ear on Alan, you concentrate on landing."  
  
"F-A-B, Virg. And thanks."  
  
"Not a problem. We'll see you soon." 


	23. Fifty Four

Fifty Four - BF  
  
Deep in the hillside of Tracy Island Mrs Tracy, Brains, Kyrano and Tin-Tin cooled their heels. They could hear the radio conversation, but were otherwise shut off from the drama that was happening outside their home.  
  
Mrs Tracy looked at the young engineer. "Can he do it Brains?"  
  
Brains took off his glasses and wiped them, giving himself time to think. "I-I honestly don't know. I-I've no knowledge of anyone landing a p-plane without some kind of visual reference."  
  
"Scott's landed in white out conditions before." Tin-Tin said hopefully, blinking away some tears that threatened to run down her cheeks. Her father held her tightly.  
  
"Y-Yes, but then h-he's had Thunderbird One's instruments to guide him. N-Now he's only got the audible a-alarms."  
  
"Poor Scott." She whispered as the tears flowed. "Poor Alan!"   
  
Kyrano wrapped his arms around her protectively. "Hush my daughter. Mister Alan will survive. Mister Scott will ensure that."  
  
"How do you think he is?" Grandma Tracy asked Brains.  
  
"H-How long has he been unconscious?"  
  
She looked at her watch. "Nearly half an hour. Is that all? It seems so much longer!"   
  
Brains seemed surprised too. "Y-Yes it has. I would be h-happier if he were to regain consciousness, but I'm not t-too worried just yet."  
  
Brains may not have been worried about Alan's present state of health, but he was worried about the possible future health, of not only Alan, but also Scott and Jeff Tracy.  
  
***  
  
Thunderbird One was descending slowly to the ground. Jeff resisted the inclination to act as a one man cheerleading squad and restricted his comments to the height of the craft.  
  
"Only 20 feet to go Scott."  
  
Scott took a deep breath and for a moment turned his attention to the sounds of the VSM and Alan. There appeared to be no change. In a strange sort of way it gave him a sense of relief. At least Alan's condition wasn't deteriorating.   
  
Another deep breath, and activating the VTOL rockets, he started his descent again.  
  
"15 feet."  
  
Scott conjured up a mental picture of how big 15 feet actually was.  
  
"Ten feet... Nine... Eight..."  
  
Something changed, there was a change in the tone of the exhaust gases from Thunderbird One's VTOL jets; there was a change to the vibration in Thunderbird One's hull. Scott knew instinctively that now was the time to cut the rockets.  
  
Jeff was just about to give that order when the VTOL jets stopped ejecting their flames. Thunderbird One continued sinking gracefully towards the ground.  
  
"Three... Two... One... You're down Scott!" Jeff started running towards International Rescue's scout craft.  
  
Scott sat for a moment in disbelief. He'd done it! They'd made it!   
  
"Open the hatch Scott!" his father ordered via the radio.  
  
He fumbled the switch that opened the hatch to the outside world. As it swung open he heard Thunderbird Two's jets as she came in to land.  
  
Jeff was inside and examining Alan, before Scott had a chance to undo his safety harness. "You did well son." Jeff said briefly by way of praise. "Get Brains out here will you."  
  
"Sure. Thunderbird One to Brains."  
  
"Brains here!" he panted.  
  
"You on your way? Alan's still unconscious."  
  
"On m-my way." Brains was gasping for breath.   
  
In the distance Scott could hear pounding feet. They belonged to Gordon and Virgil.  
  
"Nice one Scott." Gordon said as he entered.  
  
"Yeah. We knew you could do it." Virgil added.  
  
"I'm glad someone did." Scott commented.  
  
"Boys get... Good you've got a stretcher. Let's get your brother out of here." They carefully manoeuvred Alan onto the stretcher and then each, including Scott, made their way to a corner.  
  
Gordon went to grab the front left handle and then looked at Virgil. Without a word he went to the other side of the stretcher and prepared to grasp the handle with his left hand. Virgil grasped the left handle with his good right hand.  
  
"All set?" Jeff asked. "Right lift!"  
  
It was a bit of a squeeze, but they managed to negotiate the exit. Brains was waiting for them outside. He bent over Alan and then checked the VSM. "G-Get him to the sick bay!" He stepped back.  
  
The warmth of the sun appeared to have a reviving effect on Alan. He groaned. At once Tin-Tin was at his side. "It's okay Alan. You're safe now. You'll be all right Alan." She squeezed his hand and was relieved to feel him squeeze it back.  
  
"W-What happened?" he asked groggily.  
  
"W-What can you remember?" Brains asked him as he was carried towards the house.  
  
"We were at the rescue. At the hospital. Something fell on me. I was okay. Last thing I remember..." Alan's eyes opened wide. "I was piloting Thunderbird One. How'd we..."  
  
"Shush, Alan." Tin-Tin said soothingly. "Scott flew you home."  
  
"Oh." Alan had closed his eyes again. Then they snapped open again as the words sank in. "Scott!"  
  
"Yeah. And don't ever do that to me again." Scott ordered trying, and failing, to sound stern.  
  
"How'd... How'd you..."  
  
"Don't worry about that now." Jeff ordered him. "Just relax. We'll tell you everything once you've been checked over."  
  
***  
  
An hour later, everything, and everyone, had started to calm down. Alan was instructed to rest up for the next few days. He was moved back to his own room to sleep. The rest of the family group assembled in the lounge.  
  
Jeff sat at his desk, grateful to have his family safely under the one roof again. "Scott," he said, "that has got to be the most amazing bit of flying I've ever seen. I'm proud of you."  
  
Scott lowered his head modestly. "Yeah, well. You do what you have to do. What I want to know though," he looked back up, 'is why Thunderbird Two couldn't undertake an air-to-air transfer."  
  
"Better ask 'The Claw'." Gordon gestured towards Virgil.  
  
"Virgil?" Jeff queried.  
  
Virgil explained about his arm locking up. "It's starting to feel better now." He finished lamely.  
  
"Why didn't you tell us?" Scott demanded.  
  
"I thought you had enough to worry about."  
  
Jeff shot Virgil a look that clearly read 'I'll talk to you later!' "Go get cleaned up and out of your uniforms boys. Virgil! Get that arm looked at."  
  
Scott stood up, thrusting his hands into his pockets. He felt a piece of paper. "Hey! With all the excitement I'd forgotten about this." He handed the note over to his father. "One of the doctor's at the hospital thought that this guy might be able to restore my sight!"  
  
"Restore your sight?! Are you sure Scott?"  
  
"He didn't give any guarantees, did he Virgil, but apparently this doctor... whatever his name is..."  
  
Jeff read the paper. "Professor Bunsen."  
  
"Professor Bunsen is some kind of genius and has done a bit of work with retinal burns. The doctor said that if I have any chance of seeing again, that's the guy to do it."  
  
"Do you want to try?" Jeff asked, knowing the answer.  
  
"I certainly don't want to find myself in today's situation ever again. Yes I want to try."  
  
"Okay, Scott. Go get washed and I'll give him a call."  
  
"Great!" Feeling top of the world, Scott left the room, closely followed by everyone else.   
  
Everyone except Virgil, who'd been beckoned to by Jeff. "Father, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my arm, but I thought it'd loosen up by the time we got home, and I'd got Gordon to fly Thunderbird Two so I thought I wasn't causing any problems and I didn't foresee Alan..."  
  
Jeff held up a hand. "I'm not going to tell you off son. You're right, there was nothing else you could do. I just wanted your opinion on this doctor that was talking to Scott."  
  
"Oh. He was the head doctor at the hospital. I guess you don't get that position by having a screw loose. He seemed genuine to me. He was grateful for what we'd done and wanted to help in return."  
  
"Okay. Thanks. How's the arm?"  
  
Virgil managed to move his thumb slightly. "Better than before. I've got some movement back."  
  
"Go ask Brains to look at it."  
  
"F-A-B." 


	24. Fifty Five

Fifty Five - BF  
  
Later, as the family sat down to dinner, Jeff had an air of suppressed excitement about him. "I've been on to Professor Bunsen, Scott."  
  
Scott paused, a forkful of food halfway to his mouth. "And?" he said eagerly.  
  
"And, I've sent through your file and he'd like to see you tomorrow."  
  
"Tomorrow! That's great! Thanks Father" The fork resumed it's journey.  
  
"I'll get the plane ready tonight and we can leave at first light."  
  
The fork halted its progress again. "Um." Scott said hesitantly. "Father, would you mind if Virgil came with me? He's kinda been my Guardian Angel throughout this and I'd like him with me."  
  
Gordon snorted a laugh and received a light cuff around the ear from his grandmother.  
  
Jeff glanced at Virgil who's face held an expression of surprise. "Would you mind Virgil?"  
  
"Ah, no. I guess not." Virgil said hesitantly.  
  
Gordon mimed taking something down from over Virgil's head and polishing it. "Watch it Virg. Your halo's got a little tarnished."  
  
Virgil scowled at him. "And yours has got so rusty it's coloured your hair."  
  
"Boys, behave!" Jeff scolded gently. "Virgil, I'll help you get the plane ready after dinner."  
  
***  
  
As usual the family jet was in perfect flight condition, but Jeff and Virgil worked their way through the standard checklist, checking and double-checking everything.  
  
Jeff watched his son at work. Virgil was largely doing everything one handed as his left arm was encased in a hot poultice that his Grandmother had insisted would loosen up the muscles.  
  
"Scott's really excited about tomorrow." Jeff began conversationally.  
  
"You can't blame him." Virgil agreed. "If you'll excuse the analogy, it's almost as if he's seeing a light at the end of the tunnel."  
  
Jeff chuckled and then moved onto the subject he wanted to discuss. "Ah, when he suggested that you go with him, I got the impression that you weren't too keen."  
  
Virgil hesitated in his work and turned to face his father. "It's not that I don't want to. It's just..."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"This is so important to Scott. What if I don't trust this Professor Bunsen, but Scott wants to go ahead anyway. I don't want to be the one to put paid to his hopes. Or what if I think it's okay and this guy turns out to be a con artist. Or even worse, he does more damage to Scott in some way. I couldn't live with that."  
  
"Obviously Scott trusts your judgement." Jeff said comfortingly. "If you think it shouldn't go ahead, he'd be upset, but he'd understand. Don't worry about it until it happens."  
  
"How much is he charging?"  
  
For the first time Jeff's demeanour changed. "Quite a lot. He seemed interested in the fact that I had money."  
  
"What did he look like?"  
  
"I couldn't tell. He had the videophone on sound only."  
  
"So not only is Scott trusting me with his health, you're going to trust me with your money."  
  
"That goes without saying. You do what ever you think is right." Jeff looked at Virgil, who still looked troubled. "Sleep on it tonight. You might feel happier about it all tomorrow, or..." he paused meaningfully, "your arm might not be up to piloting the plane."  
  
Virgil stared at his father. He was actually being told that if he didn't want to go it would be okay to lie to Scott. He straightened his shoulders. "No." He said firmly. "It's feeling better now. It should be fine tomorrow."  
  
"That's good son. Get a good night's sleep. Tomorrow's a big day..." 


	25. Fifty Six

Fifty Six - BF  
  
Virgil rang the doorbell of the imposing eighteenth century house. 'I wouldn't be surprised if Igor answered' he thought to himself and jumped when an intercom sprang into life.  
  
"Yes!" the voice snapped.  
  
It was Scott who replied. "Scott Tracy to see Professor Bunsen."  
  
"Come in". The door swung open, seemingly of it's own accord. They stepped inside.  
  
They were in a large foyer. Five doors exited off, but all were closed. "Now where do we go?" Virgil asked out loud.  
  
As if in reply the second door on their right opened. Virgil felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.  
  
"Well?" Scott said impatiently. "I heard a door open. Are you going to take me there or do you expect me to find my own way?"  
  
"Sorry." Virgil mumbled and led Scott into the room.  
  
It smelt musty. Scott sniffed the air. "Where are we?"  
  
"It seems to be some kind of study or library. Imagine one of those rooms you'd see in those old mystery films set in the 1920's or 30's."  
  
"Walnut, leather bound books, old paintings?"  
  
"That's it."  
  
"Take a seat." The disembodied voice intoned.  
  
"Is someone here?" Scott asked in surprise.  
  
"No." Virgil wasn't happy, but resolved to keep his feelings to himself. He didn't want to prejudice Scott's impressions of the man they were about to meet; after all whether or not the treatment would proceed would ultimately be Scott's decision.  
  
Virgil led Scott to a threadbare leather chair and then sat in one himself.   
  
As they waited a variety of thoughts floated through their minds. Scott's ran along the lines of 'I wonder what this guy is like. Is he any good? Can he help me? What kind of place is this? What is that smell? Why does Virgil seem to be so uneasy?' The questions looped over and over again in his mind and he waited impatiently for the answers to present themselves.  
  
Virgil's train of thought started off by taking in their surroundings. 'Amazing place, but in such a mess. All those books! How can he find anything? I'd like to have a closer look at that painting. Scott seems calm enough. I wonder what he'd think if he could see where he is. What is this Professor Bunsen like? Professor Bunsen - what a name for a scientist. Is it real? Is he for real? Can he help? Why is he keeping us waiting?' Then Virgil remembered the morning's conversation. He'd been using his left arm quite freely and yet his father had still asked how it was, if he was confident piloting the plane. Virgil had looked at Scott's expectant face and decided that there was no way that he could let his big brother down. Jeff's smile told him that his father was relieved when Virgil had told him that his arm felt just fine.  
  
Virgil looked at his watch. Ten minutes had passed since they'd been ushered into the room.  
  
"I'm glad you came." Scott suddenly said, breaking the silence.  
  
"Not a problem."  
  
"I kinda sensed that you weren't too keen when I suggested it yesterday."  
  
"You just surprised me that's all." Virgil said.  
  
"You could have told me this morning that your arm was too sore to pilot the plane, and I would have believed you." Scott continued on.  
  
Virgil stared at him. Sometimes he himself wondered about the connection he and Scott had. "Do you think Father would let me lie?"  
  
Scott chuckled. "No. Of course not." He felt the hands on the watch on his arm. "It's been quarter of an hour. Where is that guy?"  
  
The door slammed open. "Mr Tracy." Virgil's eyes widened when he saw the figure that spoke those words. The man bounded across the carpet and grabbed Scott's hand. "I'm Professor Bunsen. And you are Scott Tracy." The words were spoken as a fact, not a question. "And you are...?" This was a question and it was directed at Virgil.  
  
"Um, ah, Virgil Tracy. I'm his brother."  
  
"Virgil? After the poet?"  
  
"The astronaut."  
  
"Oh." Professor Bunsen dismissed Virgil as being of no consequence and turned his attention to Scott.  
  
"Let me look at your eyes." Virgil watched as this strange man looked deeply at the oblivious Scott. "Fine. Fine. Now where's my eye examiner ophthalmoscope retinoscope thingy?" He moved away to a disorderly stacked bookshelf and started pulling books off onto the floor.  
  
Scott and Virgil 'looked' at each other.  
  
"Your father's a billionaire isn't he?"  
  
"Yes..." Scott said slowly.  
  
"Good." The professor turned his attention to another bookshelf and starting knocking books and bric a brac off it. "Ah! Here it is." He picked an extremely battered case off the floor. He opened the case and removed the delicate medical instrument. "How are you my lovely? I haven't seen you in such a long time." He stroked it lovingly before remembering why he'd been looking for it. He jumped over the table, landing in front of Scott. "Now let's have a good look... Hmmn... Uh huh, uh huh. It was an explosion wasn't it? Quite a big one going by the damage you've done." He threw the instrument carelessly onto the desk and sat on it. "I think I can help you."  
  
"You can!" Scott leant forward eagerly.  
  
"Oh yes. I'm sure I can. I just need to get the necessary equipment manufactured." Scott's face fell. "That's where your father's money comes in. He'll have to pay for it."  
  
"But," Scott protested, "surely you've already got the equipment? For your experiments?"  
  
"Oh, it's never been made. I've never done this before."  
  
"Never done...?" Scott spluttered. "But then how can you be so sure that you can heal me?"  
  
"Young man. You are looking at the most brilliant medical mind known to mankind. I KNOW my designs will work. Unfortunately the fool hospitals can't see that."  
  
"Why not?" Scott wanted to know.  
  
"They say it's too expensive. But do you want to know the truth. The small-minded mainstream doctors are frightened of my abilities. So they say that there isn't a big enough demand to warrant spending the necessary money. How can they put money before people's health and wellbeing? They have no right to call themselves doctors! Quacks the lot of them." He made a sound like a duck.  
  
Virgil had been sitting still for too long. His arm had started to stiffen up again. Quietly he stretched out his arm and flexed his fingers.  
  
Professor Bunsen saw the move and suddenly decided that maybe Virgil was of interest after all. "Your arm. It's injured?"  
  
"It was. I broke it saving Scott after the accident. The muscles have stiffened after the flight."  
  
"Let me look." Before Virgil could protest, Professor Bunsen had the sleeve rolled up, bandage off and was examining the scar that ran up his arm. "I suppose they inserted a plate."  
  
"That's right." Virgil agreed.  
  
"You should never have let them..."  
  
"I didn't have much say in the matter at the time." Virgil told him. "I think I was unconscious."  
  
"I don't like inserting plates. A) because the body isn't designed to hold metal, and B) the extra weight puts extra strain on the limb. Once the bone's knitted I'd think about having it removed if I were you."  
  
Virgil's silence was his only comment on the idea.  
  
The Professor continued to examine Virgil's arm. "There!" He pushed a finger into the muscle.  
  
"Ow!" Virgil said involuntarily.  
  
"Rub there!" The Professor ordered. "It'll help relax the muscle. Go on!"   
  
With some reluctance Virgil obeyed.   
  
"Not in a circle. A figure eight! It helps centre the energy. That's right." The Professor was about to return his attention to Scott. "Don't stop!" he ordered seeing Virgil hesitate.  
  
Virgil decided that it was better to humour the man.  
  
Professor Bunsen looked at Scott. "You were a pilot!" He stated.  
  
"That's right. How did you know?" Scott was continuously being surprised.  
  
"A) Your father was a pilot, your brother is a pilot, so chances are you were a pilot. And B) you are wearing a jacket of the Air Force. I assume this means you were part of the 'Killing Machine'?"  
  
Scott had forgotten that he'd grabbed his leather jacket this morning. "'Killing machine'?" He repeated.   
  
"The armed forces. Were you a member?" the Professor had rounded back on Virgil.  
  
"Me? No. I went to university."  
  
"Really." The Professor showed more interest. "What did you major in?"  
  
"Technology."  
  
"Oh. A 'Technologist'." This was said in a disparaging way and then Virgil was ignored again.  
  
"Well were you part of the 'Killing Machine'?" Scott was asked again.  
  
"Yeah, I was in the Air Force. You can't find a better place to train at being a pilot."  
  
"Did you leave because of your accident?"  
  
"No I'd already left."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Scott was wondering where all this was leading to. He shrugged. "I guess I preferred the idea of saving lives to taking them."  
  
"Ah." The Professor softened his tone. "Good." He looked at his patient speculatively. "I can reinstate your eyesight." He said finally.  
  
Scott struggled to stop himself from getting too excited. He wasn't sure how to take this man. "I thought you said you didn't have the equipment."  
  
"I don't. It needs to be built. Perhaps your brother..." he looked at Virgil.  
  
Surprised at being included, Virgil stopped massaging his arm, until a look from the Professor reminded him to keep going. "I might be able to, but I don't have the experience with medical equipment."  
  
The Professor gave him a look that clearly said 'typical Technologist'.  
  
"We have a friend who is a genius with machinery and has quite a bit of medical training though." Virgil continued on gamely. "If you wouldn't mind him looking at your schematics I'm sure he could come up with what you need."  
  
"Very well." Professor Bunsen proceeded over to a filing cabinet. He opened it and went straight to what he wanted. Virgil was surprised to see that the filing system was neat and in order. "Here!" The Professor shoved the diagrams into Virgil's lap.   
  
He picked them up with his left hand so he could continue massaging and quickly flicked through them. "This looks straight forward enough. I'm sure Brains could..."  
  
"Brains! Did you say Brains?"  
  
"Ah. Yeah." Virgil said nonplussed.  
  
"That's what we call him." Scott volunteered. "He doesn't particularly like going by any other name."  
  
"About my height? Slightly younger? Thick glasses with blue rims, because that's the only colour he can see when he's not wearing them? High forehead? Stutter?"  
  
"Yeah that's him." Scott confirmed mentally revising his image of the Professor.  
  
"Well, well. How is old 'Robot Head'?"  
  
"Robot Head?" Virgil and Scott chimed together.  
  
Professor Bunsen continued on as if he hadn't heard them. "We were at university together. Do you know that that man is nearly as great a genius as I am." He didn't notice the twin grins from the Tracy brothers at his lack of modesty. "I kept saying to him. 'Give up on technology and the other sciences and concentrate on medical science. That way you can help people; save lives! But would he listen?" He rounded on Virgil, who jumped in surprise. "No! I suppose he's stuck in some little workshop out the back of some conglomerate's factory. Wasting his talents." He waved his hand in dismissal.  
  
Scott was trying not to laugh. He was sure he could sense amusement alternating with bemusement coming from Virgil's direction. "Ah no. Actually he lives with us. He works for our father." He was tempted to add 'building machines that save lives' but resisted.  
  
"Really!" The Professor looked at Scott as if he were deciding the best way to dissect him. "I've done a bit of research on your father. He does good work, helps a lot of people. Very well! Take the diagrams to Robot Head and get him to make them up. Tell him to contact me if he needs help."  
  
"Great!" Scott wondered if the interview was at an end.  
  
Virgil had other ideas. "On a different subject. Would you mind if I had a look at your painting over there?"  
  
"The Constable? Of course."  
  
"It's a real Constable?" Virgil asked as he examined it closely. "I wondered if it was."  
  
"Let me put a bit more light onto it." The Professor switched on a desk lamp and redirected it so that it fell on the painting.  
  
"That's better." Virgil breathed. "It just comes alive when it's lit properly doesn't it." He examined the painting closer. "Constable was a true exponent of the Romantic School, wasn't he." He remarked on some of the highlights of the painting.  
  
"You know art?" Professor Bunsen was finally deciding that maybe Virgil was of interest after all.  
  
"I do a bit of painting myself."  
  
"A bit!" Scott had been feeling a little left out. "If he's only time when he's not painting is when he's playing the piano."  
  
Virgil remembered his brother. "Sorry Scott. I guess this isn't very interesting for you is it?"  
  
Professor Bunsen stared at Virgil. "You are a good pianist?"  
  
Scott saved Virgil from being immodest. "Brilliant!"  
  
"Not bad." Virgil said tactfully.  
  
"I wonder..." the Professor started sweeping objects of the top of a rectangular table and then removed a brightly coloured blanket that protected it. "...Could you play this? It's been so long since anyone has played it and unfortunately I don't have the necessary skills."  
  
Virgil circled the article of furniture. "It's a 'Square Piano' isn't it?"  
  
"That's right."  
  
Scott was a touch confused. "A square piano? You mean it doesn't have that curve in it, kind of like an upright?"  
  
"No. It's the instrument that evolved between the harpsichord and the piano, otherwise known as a 'Table Grand'. What year was it made?" Virgil asked the Professor.  
  
"1780." Professor Bunsen said proudly as he and Virgil lifted the lid back so the intricate interior was displayed.  
  
"Look at that fretwork." Virgil said amazed. "Scott, come and look at this!"  
  
Reluctantly Scott got to his feet and made his way to the Square Piano. He felt the intricacies of the woodwork. "Not something you'd knock together in an afternoon."  
  
"What's the wood?" Virgil asked.  
  
"Rosewood. Please take a seat and play something." The Professor urged.  
  
"Can I stop this?" Virgil held up his arm for the Professor's inspection.  
  
"Of course." The Professor said impatiently. "How does it feel now?"  
  
"To tell you the truth it's the best it's felt since before the accident."  
  
"Good. As soon as the muscles start to tire do that massage. You'll soon be right. And get rid of that plate."  
  
Eagerly sitting at the keyboard Virgil played a scale the length of the piano. It didn't sound too bad until he hit Middle C. "Ouch. That could do with some tuning."  
  
"Could you?" The Professor delved into a pile of objects and retrieved a piano tuning kit.  
  
Virgil did his best with the unfamiliar instrument. "The main difference between a 'Square' and a regular piano," he explained to Scott as he worked, "is that its strings run at right angles to the keys and the keyboard is usually five to five and a half octaves." When he'd finished tuning it wasn't perfect but Middle C sounded much better.  
  
"Do you read music?" The Professor asked.  
  
"Yes." Virgil found himself pushed off the piano stool as Professor Bunsen threw open the lid and retrieved a sheet of music. He held it out to Virgil expectantly.  
  
Virgil took the sheet music hesitantly. It was yellowed with age and gave the impression that it could disintegrate at any moment. "What's the piece?"  
  
"Something my Great-Great-Great-Great-Great..." Professor Bunsen counted down off his fingers, "I've lost count. Great-Grandfather wrote. I can't play, but I'd love to hear it."  
  
"I'll give it a shot." Virgil quickly scanned the music and then started to play. "It needs a lighter touch than a modern piano." He noted.  
  
Scott laid his hands on the wooden surface of the 'Square'. He could feel the vibrations of the music through the soundboard. He was feeling and hearing nearly three centuries of history. The thought sent a shiver down his spine.  
  
The Professor was standing at Virgil's side. His eyes closed in rapture; his body swaying in time to the music; his long fingers tapping out the rhythm.  
  
Virgil was caught up in the beauty of the piece, and in the freedom of movement he was experiencing in his arm. It was a long time since he'd been able to play without pain or stiffness.  
  
As the last note died away, they remained silent unwilling to break the spell of the music.  
  
Virgil was the first to speak. "That was a wonderful piece to play. Would you mind if I got a copy."  
  
"Of course!" The Professor said joyfully. "You have done it justice, you have a right to it." He slipped the music into an ancient copier and gave the fresh sheets to Virgil who slotted them in with the diagrams he already had.  
  
"Here. I'll help you cover the 'Square' up again." Virgil offered grasping one side of the lid.  
  
"Tell me... Virgil... You have the name of a poet, the eyes of an artist and the soul of a musician. So why did you take up technology as a profession?" Professor Bunsen asked curiously as together they wrestled with the tight fitting cover.  
  
Scott listened intently. He'd often wondered this himself, but would never have phrased the question in quite this way.  
  
Virgil thought for a moment. "Well you've got to admit that there is a certain artistry to the conceiving of a device, drafting it so others can visualise it, creating the necessary components so they work together perfectly and then building your creation. I guess I wanted to be able to do something that people would find useful."   
  
The Professor nodded sagely as if he'd never thought of it in that way. "We all have our roles to play in life." He eventually pronounced grandly. "But never forget, my friend, that the arts have the power to heal, to calm the soul. Never forget that you have that gift." He finished with a flourish.  
  
"Ah, right." Virgil said uncertainly. "Do you need us anymore."  
  
"No. No. Get Robot Head to give me a call when he's examined my diagrams. And then when your father has paid me we can get started."  
  
The mention of money rang a warning note in Virgil's mind. "That might be a problem."  
  
Scott and the Professor stared at Virgil.  
  
"What do you mean 'a problem'?" the Professor asked.  
  
"You said you've done a bit of research on our father, so you know how keen he is on philanthropic interests." Virgil said, wondering if he was doing the right thing. "What you probably don't know is that where it comes to his sons he's a firm believer in us working for everything, like he did. He won't help us in any way..."  
  
"But he sounded so keen yesterday?" Professor Bunsen said.  
  
"He always sounds like that." Virgil wasn't enjoying the lie he was telling. "But he still expects Scott to pay for his own operation. I'd help..." he added quickly, "but since the accident both of us have been unable to work and have had no income. But we've both had... commitments... if you know what I mean."  
  
The Professor assured him that he did.  
  
"So the long and the short of it is, we have some money between us, but not as much as if our Father was bankrolling us." Virgil couldn't look at Scott's devastated face.  
  
"I would never have believed your father would desert you like that." Professor Bunsen said quietly.  
  
"He'd happily pay out if the operation is a success, but that's how he's got to where he is today, by only betting on sure things."  
  
"I see." The Professor was even quieter. Then he shrugged. "Then I will not expect payment first. I will front up the money myself. If I succeed then your father will pay. If not, I'll have my machine and the memory of your music."  
  
Scott couldn't believe his ears. "You mean that?"  
  
"Of course. I do not lie!"  
  
Virgil was, by now, feeling very guilty. "So we can tell our father, what's Scott's chances of regaining full sight?"  
  
"Oh I'd say 80 to 90 percent."  
  
"80 to 90..." The best Scott had been hoping for was 50 percent. 


	26. Fifty Seven

Fifty Seven - BF  
  
Neither of them spoke to the other until they were on the plane heading home.  
  
"So..." Virgil eventually said. "What did you think?"  
  
"He's..." Scott struggled to find the right words. "...a little odd..."  
  
"That's putting it mildly." Virgil commented.  
  
Scott continued. "But I kind of liked him and what's more, I trusted him. What about you? You two seemed to be getting on like a house on fire."  
  
"Only after I asked about the Constable. He was ignoring me up till then."  
  
"So what did you think?"  
  
"He's... eccentric is being polite. You should have seen what he was wearing."  
  
"Let me guess. For you to notice it must have been something clashing. Pink bow tie, green shirt and fluorescent orange trousers."  
  
"Oh no. I couldn't fault his colour sense." Virgil chuckled. "Everything was perfectly co-ordinated."  
  
"Then what was wrong?"  
  
"He was wearing a rabbit outfit."  
  
"You're kidding me!"  
  
"I'm not! Right down to the floppy ears and the fluffy tail. You heard him jumping about the room. He was hopping like a rabbit! It looked so weird watching you get examined by this giant rabbit and you didn't know a thing about it!"  
  
"Heck." Scott exclaimed. "I'm glad you didn't tell me at the time.... So apart from the eccentricity, what did you think?"  
  
"Believe it or not, I liked and trusted him too."  
  
"So what was it with that 'But he still expects Scott to pay for his own operation'" Scott mimicked Virgil's soft voice, "rubbish you were spinning."  
  
"He seemed a little too keen on getting his hands on Father's money. I had to be sure that he wasn't taking you for a ride."  
  
"And now how do you feel."  
  
"Guilty! Really guilty!" Virgil admitted. "I could have spoilt everything for you. I think he genuinely believes he can help you."   
  
"And can you and Brains make his machines?"  
  
"It looks fairly straightforward."  
  
"Great!" Scott thought for a moment. "Another question. Just what did you have in mind when you said, 'But we've both had... commitments... if you know what I mean'." Once again he'd mimicked Virgil's voice.  
  
"You know, I could get very annoyed with that, very quickly." Virgil said mildly.  
  
"So what were you thinking of?"  
  
"Nothing really. I thought I'd leave it up to his imagination."  
  
"The mind boggles at what he could be thinking."  
  
The plane soared on for a few miles more.  
  
"Is that true what you said about why you took up technology?" Scott eventually asked.  
  
Virgil shrugged. "I've never really thought about it. I guess so. It sounded good anyway, he seemed impressed."  
  
"It impressed me."  
  
"Really." Virgil seemed surprised.  
  
Tracy Island came in to view.  
  
"Nearly there." 


	27. Fifty Eight

Fifty Eight - BF  
  
They arrived home.   
  
Scott was so excited he barely acknowledged his family and rushed off down to the lab to get Brains.  
  
"I take it that it went well." Jeff said wryly.  
  
"Professor Bunsen is a bit of an odd-ball, but he thinks he can do it." Virgil dropped the folder containing the plans on the desk.  
  
"You believe him Virgil?"  
  
"Yes I do. He seems to know his stuff. My arm had stiffened up again and he showed me how to relax the muscles." He held out the arm and rotated. "It feels great."  
  
"Your arm is a fair distance away from Scott's eyes though." Alan noted.  
  
"He just needs the necessary equipment built." Virgil said. "He's given me the plans for Brains to look at. I think between the two of us we should be able to manufacture what's needed."  
  
Gordon picked up the folder. The sheet music fell out. "Trust you Virgil. How are these going to help Scott regain his sight?"  
  
"Give them here." Virgil put the music on the piano as Scott, practically dragging Brains along, re-entered the room.  
  
"Where's those diagrams Virg.?" Scott asked eagerly.   
  
Gordon handed them to the little scientist who started flicking through. "Yes. Yes. This s-seems straight forward enough." He looked at Jeff. "We could even m-modify some of International R-Rescue's equipment, it'd save time. The procedure could p-probably be carried out here on Tracy Island."  
  
"Good." Jeff stated. "You and Virgil get started as soon as possible. What did the Professor say about payment?"  
  
Virgil coughed embarrassedly. "You don't have to pay unless the operation is successful."  
  
Jeff stared at him. "You're kidding?"  
  
"Only because Virgil very nearly blew it." Scott said. "Now the Professor's got the idea that when it comes to your sons you're a bit of a tightwad."  
  
"What!" Jeff stared even harder at Virgil.  
  
"I just wanted to make sure he wasn't taking us for a ride. So I told him you wouldn't even consider paying unless he was 100 percent sure he'd be successful."  
  
"And how sure is he?" Grandma Tracy asked.  
  
"80 to 90 percent." Scott grinned.  
  
"Good odds Scott." Alan said. "You going for it then."  
  
"If we can make the equipment, you bet!"  
  
"I'll have to meet this Professor B-Bunsen." Brains was still scanning the schematics.  
  
"Oh, you already have Brains." Scott said. "You were at university together."  
  
Brains looked up. "W-We were? I don't remember a..." he glanced at the folder's cover, "Onslow Bunsen."  
  
"He said he had a nickname for you." Virgil said grinning.  
  
"Everyone c-called me Brains." Brains said his face creased in confusion.  
  
"Apparently not this guy." Scott said.  
  
Brains confusion cleared. "Not Bunny Bunsen!"  
  
Virgil nearly choked.  
  
"Bunny." Scott said thoughtfully. "Figures."  
  
"He didn't!" Brains was aghast. "Not the r-rabbit suit." Virgil was nodding.  
  
"What..." Jeff said slowly, "...is this about a rabbit suit."  
  
"Bunny Bunsen had th-this theory that if you w-were going to take him seriously th-then you would be able to see past the r-rabbit suit and see how clever he was. His family l-left him plenty of money and h-he was able to indulge his passions for m-medical research. He's not afraid to think o-outside the square and has come up with some quite b-brilliant innovations. He kept on at me to t-take up medicine, said I'd s-save more lives that way... He's nearly as much of a genius as I am." Brains added as an afterthought.  
  
It was Scott's turn to choke.  
  
Virgil grinned at Brains' lack of humility and the obvious rivalry that had existed between the two men.  
  
"So you managed to see past the rabbit suit?" Gordon asked Virgil with an impish grin.  
  
"I couldn't see it." Scott shrugged. "So it didn't worry me. At least not until Virgil told me about it on the flight home."  
  
"Y-You know Mr Tracy." Brains said slowly. "Bunny B-Bunsen could be an asset to I-International Rescue. W-We could do with a d-dedicated medical researcher. It w-would free me up to..."  
  
"Be a typical 'Technologist'?" Virgil asked laughing.  
  
"I suppose he told you off f-for choosing that c-career, did he?"  
  
"I got the feeling he wasn't too impressed with me, yes." Virgil acknowledged.  
  
"At least he warmed to you." Scott said. "I thought he'd refuse to have anything to do with me just because I'd been in the Air Force."  
  
"Ah! Th-The Killing Machine." Brains said. "To B-Bunny Bunsen human life is sacrosanct."  
  
"Imagine his reaction if he knew we were International Rescue?" Virgil said.  
  
"So Brains." Alan said casually. "Just what was your nickname?"  
  
"N-Never you mind." Brains flushed.   
  
"Virgil will tell us later anyway. Won't you Virg.?"  
  
"No way. Us 'Technologists' have got to stick together."  
  
"You'll tell us won't you Scott."  
  
"And jeopardise any chance of getting the equipment made? Sorry Gordon."  
  
"I'd like to c-call him and get a few th-thing clarified Mr Tracy. If I may?" Brains asked his employer.  
  
"Be my guest Brains." Jeff vacated the chair so that Brains could sit in front of the videophone. "Tell him I'd like to meet him whenever he's ready. He can visit us on the island. We'll pick him up in the jet."  
  
Brains made the call.   
  
Professor Bunsen answered with the video turned on. "Robot Head is that you?"  
  
Alan and Gordon looked at each other and mouthed the words "Robot Head?" in astonishment.  
  
"I-It is, B-Bunny."  
  
"Have you still got that stutter, Robot Head? I could fix it you know."  
  
"I-I have no doubt that you could B-Bunny. About th-these plans for Scott. We should get together and d-discuss them. Mr Tracy suggested th-that we could send a p-plane to pick you up. Y-You could come to Tracy Island and m-meet the family."  
  
Bunny Bunsen seemed a trifle surprised. "Visit Mr Tracy? But of course, just tell me when."  
  
"Whenever would s-suit you. B-But please Bunny. Leave the r-rabbit suit at home..."  
  
Alan and Gordon looked disappointed. They'd been looking forward to seeing the Professor in his costume.  
  
***  
  
The Professor visited the next day. "You lied to me." He said accusingly to Virgil. "You said your father wouldn't pay."  
  
"Call it the curse of the Technologists." Virgil said easily, although his stomach was knotted up with worry. "We're always very careful with money. Besides I was testing you... just as you were testing us with the rabbit suit."  
  
Professor Bunsen laughed. "Touché. Very clever my friend. How's the arm."  
  
"Haven't had any problems since you showed me that massage."  
  
"Good, good." Professor Bunsen turned back to Brains.  
  
Virgil mimed wiping sweat from his brow and grinned sheepishly at his father... 


	28. Fifty Nine

Fifty Nine - BF  
  
"What are you guys up to?" Scott asked as he wandered into the simulator control room.  
  
He heard Gordon jump and smiled at the reaction. Now that the family had come to accept Scott's condition and regard it as just a normal part of life, Gordon had decided that it would be fun to try to sneak up on Scott. Which he tried, again, and again, and again. What he hadn't reckoned on was Scott's hearing becoming more acute. The result being that Scott heard Gordon every time. What had started out as a simple practical joke had become, for Gordon, one of his life's ambitions. But what really irked him was that Scott managed to sneak up on him so often, usually without trying.   
  
"Oh, ah, Scott." he stammered. "We're just trying something out."  
  
"Really what?"  
  
"Tell him Alan."  
  
Alan glared at his redheaded brother. "Thanks." He said sarcastically. "Um. We were just trying to see if we could do what you did."  
  
"What I did?" Scott said in surprise. "What was that?"  
  
"Um, land Thunderbird One without being able to see."  
  
"Oh." Scott hesitated a moment. "And can you?"  
  
"No!" Gordon said. "We've all had a go blindfolded. We've tried to replicate the conditions you were under and we can't do it."  
  
At that moment the door to the simulator opened and Virgil jumped out in a huff. "I don't know how he... Scott!"  
  
"What happened Virgil. Did you crash Thunderbird One?" Scott asked wryly.  
  
"Yes, but not that time."  
  
"You succeeded?"  
  
"No. I was trying it in Thunderbird Two."  
  
"But surely you made it in Thunderbird Two?" Scott asked.  
  
"Don't worry Virgil." Gordon said with a laugh. "We'll give you a good funeral. Shame there wasn't enough left for a decent burial. We'll just scoop what was left of you and Two up together and drop you in the hole."  
  
"I don't get it." Virgil said. "I could understand me not being able to land Thunderbird One, I'm not so tuned in to her. But Thunderbird Two..."  
  
"I thought you were supposed to working with Brains on that equipment." Scott said. "Not crashing all of International Rescue's aircraft."  
  
"Brains doesn't need any help at the moment. He's going to page me as soon as he needs me. I thought to relax I'd get in a bit of practise on Thunderbird One, and then these two came up with this harebrained idea."  
  
"Let me have a go." Scott suggested.  
  
"I wouldn't have thought you'd want to got through that again." Gordon noted.  
  
"I wouldn't in real life, but maybe there's something missing from the simulation. I might be able to pick up on it."  
  
"Okay, Scott." Alan agreed. "Same conditions as last time?"  
  
"Same conditions as last time." Scott stated firmly.  
  
"In you go Alan" Gordon grinned. "You can lie there like a dummy. I'll get the VSM."  
  
"Except that!" Scott said even more firmly. "Who's got the blindfold?"  
  
Alan and Gordon burst out laughing as Virgil absentmindedly held it out to him.  
  
***  
  
Scott sat in the simulators seat. As he ran his hands over the controls re-familiarising himself, the memories returned as to the circumstances he'd been under last time he'd tried this.  
  
"Ready Scott?" Gordon asked through the intercom.  
  
"F-A-B."  
  
"Okay, you've hovering over the runway. Do you want me to be Dad?"  
  
"Only after Virgil told him to shut up."  
  
"You did what?" Alan's astonished voice was heard in the background.  
  
"I did not!" Virgil said. "I merely suggested that you'd cope better if he restricted what he was saying."  
  
"Just as well you did, or my landing might have been as good as yours. Okay fellas. What's my height?"  
  
They'd replicated the conditions as closely as they'd been able. Gordon read out Scott's 'height' off the ground.   
  
The three observers watched as the simulator mimicked the forces and movements of Thunderbird One.  
  
The ground was getting closer. Scott was sweating nearly as much as he had been the other day. Something was missing. He lowered 'Thunderbird One' a bit more.  
  
An explosion sounded, nearly startling him out of the pilot's chair. He was glad he couldn't see the fireworks that he knew would have been displayed on the simulator screen.  
  
"Nice one Scott." Alan said dryly. "I'm glad I'm not with you this time!"  
  
"It's not the same." Scott protested.  
  
"Yeah. Sure."  
  
"Honestly. There weren't the vibrations and change in sounds when the VTOL rockets went off against the ground and the hull. That's how I knew we were close. It's why none of you managed to land."  
  
Virgil sounded relieved. "I knew there had to be a reason."  
  
"Yeah. The reason is that even blind Scott's a better pilot than you." Gordon teased.  
  
Scott smiled as Virgil snapped an indignant reply. It was good to be alive. And if Professor Bunsen could reinstate his eyesight it would be even better. 


	29. Sixty

Sixty - BF  
  
"Mind if I watch you, Kyrano?"  
  
Kyrano smiled. This ritual had always started with those same words. Even now that Mister Scott couldn't see him at work, he still checked if it was okay to sit nearby and talk.  
  
"I should be pleased, Mister Scott."  
  
"Thanks." Scott sat on the stool at the end of the kitchen counter. He'd quickly discovered that he'd got as much pleasure from the sounds and smells of cooking as he had from watching. And he still enjoyed these conversations with Kyrano. The older man always looked at the world from a different viewpoint.  
  
"You and your brothers. What did you do today?" Kyrano asked.  
  
It was always the same question but the answers were always varied.  
  
"I've been helping Gordon test some of Thunderbird Four's equipment. He's been having problems with one of the grabs. I'm amazed at what I can hear that our diagnostic equipment doesn't pick up. Something was catching as the grab started opening and I heard it. I think we've got it fixed. Alan's been working in Thunderbird Three. Just cosmetic stuff mainly. And Virgil's been helping Brains and Professor Bunsen fine tune the machine."  
  
"Only one day to go, Mister Scott."  
  
"Yep. I'll be glad when tomorrow's over and done with. Then I'll know one way or another."  
  
"But you are not worried?" Kyrano said perceptively.  
  
"To tell you the truth, no I'm not. As much as I hope the operation's successful tomorrow, I won't be devastated if it's not. I've got used to being blind. I can do more than I originally believed I'd be able to and I know that I can cope. The only things I'll be really disappointed in missing out on will be seeing my family and friends." Then Scott frowned. "Can I ask you a question, Kyrano?"  
  
"Of course, Mister Scott."  
  
"How does everyone look? It's been a year, has anyone changed drastically?"  
  
"We are all a year older."  
  
"Yeah, I realise that, but is there anything major. You know... is Alan bald, has Gordon developed gills, do I look like the Phantom of the Opera?"  
  
"The Phantom of the Opera?" Kyrano was confused.  
  
"I've never worried about it and have never thought to ask, but the burns that I got at Regnad..." Scott felt his face, "I can't feel anything, but is there any scarring?"  
  
"No Mister Scott."  
  
"And my eyes. How do they look?"  
  
"They have not changed. They will look worse tomorrow after the operation."  
  
"I guess you're right."  
  
"Mister Scott?" Kyrano cut some carrot sticks and placed them at Scott's elbow. "May I ask you something?"  
  
"Sure." Scott said, surprised. He picked up a carrot stick and bit into it.  
  
"Forgive my asking, but is all well between you and Mister Virgil?"  
  
"Why do you ask, Kyrano?" Scott asked warily.  
  
"I have noticed that there are times when Mister Virgil appears to... distance himself... from you."  
  
Scott put down his snack. "So you noticed that too. I'd hoped it was my imagination."  
  
"It is infrequent, but over the past few months it has become more frequent."  
  
"Since we met Professor Bunsen?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"That's what I thought."  
  
"You believe you know why?"  
  
Scott nodded slowly. "Unfortunately I think I do."  
  
Kyrano waited, preparing the sauce as he did so.  
  
"When I was in rehab there was one day," Scott started slowly, "that was really bad. Well at the beginning they were all bad, but this day was the worst. And I took out my frustrations on Virgil."  
  
"It was the day you hit him?"  
  
Scott nodded. "I'm not proud of what I did, I'm even less proud of what I said."  
  
Once again Kyrano waited.  
  
"I told him I was glad I couldn't see him."  
  
This shook even the usually unshakable Kyrano. "Mister Scott?"  
  
'You never met my mother did you, Kyrano. But you've seen photographs. You've seen how similar she and Virgil are."  
  
"I've seen."  
  
"Did you ever hear the story of how she died?"  
  
"Only that it was in an avalanche."  
  
"Yes. The whole family were going on holiday. Virgil was supposed to have travelled in the car that she and Grandpa and Gordon and Alan were in. But he'd been painting a picture for Ma and had got all covered in paint. It's that one of 'Thunderbird Two'," he mimed the quotation marks "in Father's office. So it was decided that he'd travel with us, and it would give Ma and Grandpa a chance to get to the cabin before Alan and Gordon woke up." Scott gave a wry chuckle. "Do you know I hated the idea. I was this big, tough ten-year-old and did NOT want to travel with my five-year-old kid brother. Of course I was told to make the most of it. We left nearly an hour after them, by the time Grandma had got Virg. cleaned up. They were the first vehicle through the North-West pass." He sighed. "The noise of their car caused the avalanche."  
  
Kyrano diced a vegetable and said nothing as Scott struggled with the memories.  
  
"Virgil's blamed himself for the accident ever since. And none of us thickheads even realised until last year. Of course it was just bad luck that it was our families car that was in the wrong place at the wrong time, it was nothing to do with him holding them up."  
  
"Does Mister Virgil still blame himself?"  
  
"No." Scott asserted, and then he hesitated. "Well he said he doesn't. It's one of those things we haven't discussed."  
  
"Mister Scott. Why are you telling me this?"  
  
"Why? Because what I said to my brother, who was trying to help me and support me in my darkest hours, what I said to him was that he reminded me so much of our mother that I hated looking at him. That every time I saw him I remembered that her death was his fault. How's that for a loving remark from a grateful big brother." Scott said bitterly.  
  
"What did he do?" Kyrano gave the sauce a stir.  
  
"He was out of there. I didn't see him for hours afterwards. I really cut him to the quick. And I don't think he's ever forgiven me. Not that I blame him. And despite that you know that he'd said that if anything happened to him he wanted to donate his eyes to me."  
  
"I had heard."  
  
"That's one thing that made me think that it was my imagination. That a guy wouldn't make an offer like that if he disliked me. But now I think, that if that were how I were to regain my sight, I'd never see him again anyway."  
  
"You are wrong, Mister Scott." Kyrano said quietly. "You would see him every time you looked in the mirror. They would be his eyes looking back at you."  
  
"So they would." Scott said thoughtfully. "Creepy thought isn't it."  
  
"You should talk with him."  
  
"You're right, Kyrano. I'll do it after dinner. But where do I start?"  
  
"Mister Scott. You should start with 'I am sorry'."  
  
"I've apologised many..." Scott started and then he heard footsteps.  
  
Virgil breezed into the kitchen. "How's it going, Kyrano. Is he holding you up again?"  
  
"Mister Scott was telling me what it was like in rehabilitation, Mister Virgil."  
  
Virgil made a face. "That's a cheerful topic. I won't take up too much of your time. I just wondered how long dinner was going to be."  
  
"Dinner will be ready in half an hour." Kyrano informed him gravely.  
  
"Good." Virgil said cheerfully. "To tell you the truth it was just an excuse to get out of the hospital. Brains is about ready to blow his stack."  
  
"Has something gone wrong with the equipment?" Scott asked with concern.  
  
"No, that's fine. We're just running some final tests and the Professor keeps on making snide remarks to Brains, as if he has doubts about Brains work. What's silly is that he only has praise for me and I'm the weak link."  
  
"Hardly." Scott said.  
  
"That's the way I feel. I know I'm no dunce, but alongside those two I feel positively backward." Virgil gave a little chuckle.   
  
"Say Virgil." Scott said hesitantly. "What say after dinner you and I have a talk?"  
  
"A talk?" Virgil frowned. "Sure... what about?"  
  
"Um. This equipment. You can tell me how it works."  
  
"I don't know that I understand the medical side of it..."  
  
"I don't need to know the gruesome details. Just the basics."  
  
"Wouldn't it be better to talk to Brains or the Professor?"  
  
"Brains would do his best, but he'd still stutter his way through and it'd be full of scientific words that I didn't understand. And I hate to think what the nutty Professor would come out with. At least with you it'd be in plain English. I want to know something about this machine that going to help me see again."  
  
There it was. Scott sensed a sudden tension from Virgil. It lasted only a moment.  
  
"Okay. I'll do my best. Give me a yell when you're ready. In the meantime I'd better get back to the hothouse and make sure they haven't killed each other. We don't want any blood shed before the operation's even started." Virgil swiped one of Scott's carrot sticks and left the kitchen.  
  
"It happened again, didn't it." Scott said soberly. "When I said about the machine helping me to see."  
  
"Yes it did happen."  
  
"What did you see, Kyrano?"  
  
"Sadness, Mister Scott. The same expression you got when you spoke of your mother's death... for that one moment, Mister Virgil had."  
  
"Why do I have the feeling I've left this talk too long? Father said a year ago I should have talked to Virg. about this."  
  
"Mr Tracy knows?"  
  
"Only when I mentioned it to him then. He hadn't noticed anything amiss, and he hasn't mentioned it since. He's not as perceptive as you are."  
  
"Perhaps you should speak of this to him again."  
  
"And have him say 'I told you so'?"  
  
Kyrano started unwrapping a package.  
  
"So what are we having for dinner?" Scott asked suspiciously.  
  
"Fish. There was a new shop in the market."  
  
"Something doesn't smell right."  
  
"I chose this piece myself." Kyrano examined the fish closely. "It was the freshest..."  
  
Scott heard the change in the other mans tone. "Has the fishmonger swapped it?" he asked.  
  
"Yes." Kyrano said sadly. "I shall not be going to that shop again. Now I have nothing prepared for dinner."  
  
The familiar sound of the klaxon was heard.  
  
"I shouldn't worry, Kyrano." Scott said as he jumped off the stool and raced out of the kitchen. "There's not going to be anyone here to eat it anyway..."  
  
Scott could hear John's calm voice explaining the situation as he arrived in the lounge.  
  
"...The explosion has blocked off all exits. There's one victim trapped inside. All available rescue services are tied up at a major fire on the other side of the city. They're not prepared to release a tender to save one person when there's twenty lives at stake..."  
  
"They don't want our help there too, do they?" Jeff asked.  
  
"No. They've got that situation under control... they say."  
  
"You sound unsure, son."  
  
"It sounds suspicious to me. I've been scanning the emergency broadcasts and I can't find any other emergencies. I think that because this place is top secret they don't want the local rescue services tramping all over everything. Who better to keep your secrets than an organisation that's trying to remain secret itself."  
  
"You could be right, John. But it doesn't mean that we won't help. Tell them we're on the way." Jeff turned back to those assembled in the room. "Alan's on his way up, Scott. Are you sure you want to go on this rescue?"  
  
"Just try and stop me." Scott grinned as he grabbed the wall lamps. "If I'm going to be grounded for a couple of weeks, I'm going to make the most of this trip." He activated the mechanism.  
  
He felt the rotation cease and stepped forward. He felt no compunction about stepping onto the platform that would carry him across to Thunderbird One. Brains had installed a safety mechanism that would tell him when he was getting too close to the edge. He'd never needed it. He'd always known the safety margins available to him.  
  
He was strapped in and had got more information from John by the time Alan arrived. "About time kiddo. I was about ready to take off without you."  
  
"Tomorrow maybe. Today I'm in the pilot's seat." Alan sat down and fastened his safety belt.  
  
Thunderbird One started to move... 


	30. Sixty One

Sixty One - BF  
  
As they approached the danger zone they could clearly see their objective. A thick plume of inky black smoke rose up from what they assumed was a building. There was little wind and Gordon watched the tall pillar of smoke rise up into the sky. He gave a low whistle. "Nasty."  
  
"No sign of any fire." Virgil noted as he brought the 'plane in closer.  
  
Thunderbird Two touched down - outside the security cordon of the complex. "I'm surprised they've even asked us to help." Gordon noted as they exited the craft.  
  
They were met outside by Scott and Alan. Both looked angry. "Were getting no help from the authorities! " Scott fumed. "They've agreed to let us take Mobile Control into the complex, but only because I pointed out that it was impossible for me to work from out here. And we can't send the 'Firefly' in because they won't give me any plans or any details of the building. It's 'too confidential'. I don't know how they expect us to find him."   
  
"They did say that he was in Laboratory One, and that the power's out. There's no lighting." Alan had the expression he'd get whenever he'd lose a car race due to some bureaucratic bungling. "Which is no help whatsoever. We're talking about a man's life, and they're worried about security!  
  
"So what do we do?" Gordon asked.  
  
"The only thing we can do." Scott told him. "Virgil. You take Thunderbird Two up again and try and get a bearing on our victim. Alan and Gordon will have to use our handheld scanners and follow your directions."  
  
Virgil looked at the pillar of smoke without enthusiasm. "That's going to be like flying into a tar pit! What's in that smoke?"  
  
"We don't know. It's top..."  
  
"...Secret. Thanks Alan. I've got the picture." Virgil sighed. "Lets hope it's nothing corrosive. I'll grab some samples while I'm up there. If there's any environmental impact the World Government's going to want to know about this. Let me know when you guys are ready to go in. I don't want Two in there any longer than she has to be."  
  
"Guess we'd better get suited up." Gordon started heading back into Thunderbird Two.  
  
Grumbling something that sounded like "They expect us to risk our necks and don't do anything to help", Alan followed him.  
  
"It'll take them a couple of minutes. I'll take you back to Mobile Control." Virgil offered.  
  
"Thanks." They'd gone a couple of steps when Scott spoke again. "I guess this means we won't have a chance to have that talk tonight."  
  
Virgil looked at him quizzedly. "Are you really that worried about the equipment?"  
  
"No." Scott said quickly. "I just wanted to talk."  
  
"You never know. We might strike it lucky and be leaving within the hour."  
  
"Yeah." Scott said without optimism.  
  
They arrived back at Mobile Control and Scott reactivated it. It started beeping and whirring, analysing what information it had - which wasn't much. As he listened to the cacophony of sounds Scott gave a wry grin. "Are you sure you didn't have a hand in this. It sounds like you've tried to write an electronic symphony."  
  
Virgil laughed. "I did help with the tone scale, but that's all. You can blame Brains for the orchestration." He looked over towards Thunderbird Two. "Here they come. I'd better get going. I'll talk to you once I'm in the air." He jogged back over to his plane.  
  
"I hope we get the chance to talk once we're home too." Scott said quietly as he heard the footsteps recede.  
  
"Okay." Gordon said as he arrived at Mobile Control. "Where do we go now?"  
  
"You know as much as I do." Scott reminded him, before speaking into the microphone. "Okay Virgil. The guys are ready."  
  
"F-A-B." Virgil's voice intoned out of the speakers and they heard Thunderbird Two's VTOL jets burst into life.  
  
"I guess the first thing we've got to do is find the door." Alan stated. "They did tell us that it was about six metres in from this wall." He indicated roughly the region where they would have to start looking.  
  
"Have you both got plenty of oxygen?" Scott enquired with some concern.  
  
"Yep. We've already checked each other's equipment." Gordon reassured him. "We'll be okay."  
  
"Good. Oh, well. Good luck fellas."  
  
"Thanks Scott."  
  
"See you soon." He heard his brothers voices start to fade away as they moved towards the smoking building. He could smell the acrid fumes and wondered exactly what was in that shrouded building that he'd just sent his brothers into.  
  
"We've found the door." Alan told him via Mobile Control's speakers.  
  
"F-A-B. Move in Virgil."  
  
"Moving in." With some trepidation, but no hesitation, Virgil flew into the inky, writhing tower. Soon all exterior visual references were gone. He brought Thunderbird Two into hover mode and checked a monitor. "I see him." A green dot was showing on screen. He could also make out two other dots, one orange, one white that told him where his brothers were. "He's ahead of you and to your right." He watched the dots move into the building.  
  
Down below, the interior of the building was pitch black. They switched on their torches. The beam of light was unable to penetrate through the thick smoke. Unperturbed by this, Gordon turned on the direction finder that was incorporated into the visor of his fire suit. He could see a grey glow and little else. He fiddled with the controls to improve the picture.  
  
The glow brightened, but otherwise there was no improvement.  
  
"Gordon." Alan said quietly. "My direction finder's not working. I can't see the walls or obstacles or anything!"  
  
"Me neither." Gordon told him. "Try switching it off and on again."  
  
That didn't work.  
  
"How's your contrast and brightness?" Alan asked.  
  
"I've got them on full." Gordon replied, perplexed. "I'm not seeing anything!"  
  
"Something's got to be interfering with the signal." Alan said.  
  
Gordon switched his direction finder off with finality and surveyed his surroundings.   
  
He could see nothing.  
  
"I don't like this Alan." He said uneasily. "I think we should get out of here and check the equipment out."  
  
Up above them Virgil watched the two dots retrace their steps. "Scott, what's wrong? They're coming out!"  
  
"Coming out?" Scott repeated in consternation.  
  
"I'm coming in to land." Virgil stated. By the time he'd done so, and run over to Mobile Control, Gordon and Alan had already explained their predicament to Scott and John, who was listening in via the radio link.  
  
"It's that dark, it's like we were blind!" Gordon exclaimed, and then started. "Sorry Scott."  
  
But Scott hadn't heard him. He was deep in thought. "Gordon." He'd made a decision. "Go get my fire suit."  
  
"But..."  
  
"Go!" Scott ordered. Gordon took off at a run into Thunderbird Two's hold.  
  
"Just what are you planning to do Scott?" John asked in concern.  
  
"I'm going to go in and rescue that guy."  
  
"Scott!" He heard various exclamations of protest from his brothers.   
  
He held up his hand for silence. "You've got to admit that at the moment I'm the best qualified to undertake this rescue."  
  
This statement was met with an uneasy silence.  
  
"Do you think this is wise?" Alan asked quietly.  
  
"What other option do we have?" Scott asked. He heard Gordon come running back with the required protective equipment.  
  
"What are you going to do?" Gordon asked.  
  
"I'm going to do the rescue."  
  
"But Scott..."  
  
Scott ignored him. He was still in control. "Alan! I want you to man Mobile Control. Keep everyone up with the play as to what's happening... John! You can radio base and let them know what we're doing... Virgil! Is Thunderbird Two's imaging system still working?"  
  
"It should be..."  
  
"Good. I want you to be my eyes. Let me know where our victim is in relation to my position." Scott pulled the fire suit up over his shoulders and sealed the front. "Gordon! You can lead me over to the entrance..."  
  
Virgil gripped Scott by both shoulders. "Are you sure about this?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Yes I am. I'm also sure that if I don't get a move on we're going to be retrieving a dead body from in there."  
  
"Be careful." With these parting words Virgil headed over to once again prepare Thunderbird Two for lift off.  
  
As Scott pulled the hood over his head, Gordon affixed a "Sonar Sender" to his brother's collar. "You know this isn't designed for this situation."  
  
"Yeah I know. I'll just have to hope that Brains made it strong enough."  
  
"Knowing Brains you could put it in one of Thunderbird One's jets on full throttle and it'd still come out working." Gordon checked the seal on Scott's suit before pulling his own hood over his head. "Are you ready?"  
  
"As I'll ever be."  
  
"Okay." Gordon led Scott over to where the entrance was shrouded in thick black smoke. Then he hesitated. "Let me come with you."  
  
"Thanks Gordon, but, no offence intended, you'd be more of a hindrance than a help. I'll be able to move quicker without you holding me back."  
  
"If you're sure." Gordon said quietly.  
  
"If anything goes wrong, or I ask for help, or I lose contact with you guys, I want you in there straight away. You'll have to follow Virgil's directions to find me. Okay."  
  
"Okay." Gordon said with more resolve. "Come on then. I'll take you as far as I can go safely."  
  
"That's fine with me."  
  
It wasn't long before Gordon was totally disorientated in the blinding smoke. "Sorry Scott. This is as far as I can go."  
  
"Thanks Gordon. I'll see you soon."  
  
Reluctantly, Gordon felt Scott move away down the smoke filled corridor. He then retraced his steps back into the safety of daylight. 


	31. Sixty Two

Sixty Two - BF  
  
The beginning was fairly easy going. The only obstacle was the smoke and to Scott this wasn't an obstacle. "Where do I need to go Virgil?"  
  
His brother's voice came out of the speakers in his hood. "Keep heading in the same direction. You've got to go another two thirds as far."  
  
"F-A-B."  
  
There was silence inside the building and no communications over the airwaves, but still Scott was listening. The tiny "Sonar Sender" attached to his collar was emitting tiny pulses that he was receiving via even smaller earpieces in his both ears. To Scott this was one of the best inventions Brains had ever made. Between his cane and the "Sonar Sender" he was aware of every obstacle in his path.   
  
Another feature that Brains had added in was that he'd programmed the sonar to receive signals from each family member's watch. Each signal was unique to that individual and caused the earpieces to emit a tone that was just as unique. It meant that at meal times Scott had to turn the "Sonar Sender" off or else the cacophony of sound would send him batty, but it also had the bonus of alerting him to the presence of any of his family within a radius of five metres. Once alerted, his own hearing would tell him if the person was moving stealthily or normally.  
  
Gordon wasn't aware of this feature. It was the reason why he'd never managed to catch Scott out.   
  
Scott moved on with assurance. He knew the way ahead was clear.  
  
***  
  
"What does he think he's doing?" Jeff yelled. "Scott doesn't have recent rescue experience! He could kill himself!"  
  
"He's aware of the danger, Dad." John tried to reassure him. "But, to quote him, he's the best qualified to undertake the rescue. The others aren't used to getting around in complete darkness."  
  
"Is it really that dark?"  
  
"According to Alan, yes."  
  
Jeff slammed his fist onto an intercom button. "Brains! Get up here now!" he shouted angrily.  
  
Brains and Professor Bunsen answered the call immediately. They came running into the lounge. "What's wrong?"  
  
"The direction finders aren't working." Jeff frowned at Brains. "Scott's gone into the building to rescue the victim. What's gone wrong with them Brains?"   
  
They stared at him.  
  
"Scott's d-done what!?" Brains stammered.  
  
"But he could be killed." The professor complained. "I'll never find out if my machine works or not."  
  
"He is tr-trying to save a l-life." Brains said contemptuously.  
  
"I realise that, Robot Head, and I admire his motives, but couldn't one of the others have gone instead?"  
  
"No." Jeff struggled to calm down. "Scott's in charge. He made the call. He's doing what he believes is best, what has the best chance of success."  
  
"And what's his chances?" Bunny Bunsen asked.  
  
"I don't know." Jeff snapped. "But what's gone wrong Brains. I want answers. I don't like International Rescue being caught on the back foot like this."  
  
"I-I d-don't kn-know M-Mr T-Tracy." His employer's fierce stare was making Brains uncomfortable and exacerbating his stutter. "I-It w-would b-be v-very unu-usual f-for more th-than one d-direction f-finder to f-fail at th-the s-same t-t-time. S-Something m-must b-be b-blocking th-the s-signal. W-What d-does th-this c-company d-do?"  
  
"We don't know Brains." John informed him. "They've been uncooperative from the start."  
  
***  
  
The "Sonar Sender's" signals changed. Scott reached out and felt a wall ahead. "Virgil. I've reached a dead end. Which way do I need to go?"  
  
Virgil checked the monitor that showed Scott's location relative to the victims. "He's ahead of your position and a little to your right."  
  
"Thanks." Scott felt along the wall and found a corner. He followed it round and found a ridge that could have been a doorframe. His fingers tracked over it and found something protruding. He grasped and turned it. To his relief the door opened. He stepped forward and closed the door behind him again in the hope of minimising the smoke in this new room. "Where to now Virgil?  
  
"You're more in line with him. You need to keep going in the same direction you were before."  
  
Scott felt along the wall for a couple of steps before he felt confident that he was once again heading in the right direction.  
  
***  
  
Outside, Alan and Gordon were cooling their heels. John was with them in spirit as he waited impatiently on board Thunderbird Five.  
  
"I hate this." Gordon moaned. "I should be in there with him."  
  
"If he needed your help he would have asked for it Gordon." John reminded him. "Just be ready in case you've got to go in."  
  
"How's your oxygen supply?" Alan asked.  
  
Gordon checked the gauge. "Full."  
  
"Got a couple of spare canisters."  
  
Gordon patted the straps of the backpack he wore. "Yep."  
  
They waited some more.  
  
***  
  
Jeff couldn't wait any longer. "Base to Thunderbird Five."  
  
John's image replaced his portrait. "Dad?"  
  
"Any news?"  
  
"Virgil says he's getting closer. He should be with the victim at any moment."  
  
"Good! I won't be happy until he's out of there."  
  
"We all agree with you on that one Dad."  
  
"Scott." He could hear Virgil's voice. "You're in line with our victim. You need to move about three metres to your right."  
  
Scott took two steps and found himself up against a wall. "I'm going to have to find a door." He felt along the wall until he found the obvious outline of a door. He found the handle but didn't turn it. "This is International Rescue!" He yelled through the obstruction. "Can you hear me?"  
  
He heard a scuffle on the far side of the door. "Yes! Yes! I can hear you!"  
  
"Are you hurt?"  
  
"No."  
  
"What's your name?"  
  
"Percy"  
  
"Okay, Percy. Is the door locked?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Can you open it?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Can I open it from this side?"  
  
The voice sounded a little perplexed. "No. It's on automatic lockdown. If you could cut away the lock you'd be able to get in."  
  
"Okay." Scott acknowledged. "Percy! I want you to get as far away from the door as you can, and get down onto the floor. Have you got any water in there?"  
  
"I've got my drink bottle, if I can find it in the dark."  
  
"Good. Wet a bit of cloth and hold it over your face, like a mask. I don't know how much smoke will get in there when I get inside and I don't want you breathing any more than you need to. I have a protective suit for you, with an oxygen mask. As soon as I get the door open let me know where you are. Are there any obstacles in my way?"  
  
"No the floor's clear."  
  
"Good. Stand back!" Scott got the spare protective overall out of his bag and strung it across the backpack's straps so it would be within easy reach when he got inside. Then he removed the laser and once again felt the door's handle. Satisfied that he'd found the right place he started to cut through the door. 'At least I don't have to worry about safety goggles.' He thought grimly.  
  
The laser made short work of the lock. He stood back and kicked at the door. It swung open. He stepped into the room.  
  
"I'm over here." He heard Percy call. He made his way over to the victim. He felt his cane touch him.   
  
"Here!" he pulled the overall out from the backpack's straps. "Can you get into this? Put the hood on first."  
  
Percy complied. "Have you got a torch?"  
  
"Ah, no. Our equipment means we, ah, don't need torches." This was one piece of equipment that Scott hadn't thought of bringing. He could hear the man struggle into the overalls.  
  
"This is impossible when you can't see what you're doing." Percy complained.  
  
'Not really' Scott thought to himself with a grin, as he assisted where he could.   
  
"Done!" Percy exclaimed. "Now what?"  
  
"Give me your arm and we'll get out of here."  
  
"I'm glad you know where you're going. I don't have a clue."  
  
'Just the blind leading the blind.' In the cover of darkness, Scott was still grinning to himself. He was enjoying being in action again. "Can you hear me, Virgil?"  
  
"Loud and clear."  
  
"We're on our way out. Are we headed for the door?"  
  
"F-A-B." Virgil watched Scott's blue mark and the victim's green one move in tandem towards where he now knew the door to be. Then they started moving back along the hallway.  
  
***  
  
Everyone was unprepared for the explosion.  
  
***  
  
Scott found his grasp ripped from Percy's arm as he was thrown back against the wall. Stunned he lay still for a moment until the sounds of falling masonry caused him to curl into a ball to try to protect himself.  
  
***  
  
A pillar of flame appeared from within the black pall of smoke and shot towards Thunderbird Two. Virgil didn't have time to think. He threw the motors into action and sent Thunderbird Two screaming forward away from the imminent danger. The starboard wing was singed as the flames shot skywards. Warning buzzers started blaring at him from his control panel.  
  
***  
  
John stared at the video screen as Mobile Control's camera started shaking uncontrollably. He saw the shockwaves of the blast throw Alan off the stool, and Gordon dive to the ground covering his head. Then he couldn't see anything as black smoke obliterated his view. "Alan!" he yelled. "Gordon! What's happening?" 


	32. Sixty Three

Sixty Three - BF  
  
Virgil brought Thunderbird Two around so she was facing the danger zone and examined his control panel anxiously. The warning alarms that had gone off had all been silenced. Most of them had been the result of his sudden acceleration. Only one warning light remained on. The gauge that kept a close watch on his starboard wing's temperature. As he watched the temperature decreased and the warning light winked off.   
  
Satisfied that he'd sustained no real damage, and could safely remain airborne, he turned his attention to the scene in front of him.  
  
It looked no different to how it had been before. That thick, black cloud of smoke still hung over the building obliterating the view. He had no way of knowing how things were below that cloud. He switched his attention to where he'd last seen Mobile Control.  
  
***  
  
John anxiously scanned his video screen for signs that the smoke was dissipating. He was relieved when a hooded figure swam into view. "Alan! Are you guys alright?"  
  
"Yeah. We're fine, John. Few bruises, that's all."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Something exploded. Hang on, I've got to try to reach Scott."  
  
John waited impatiently for some sign that his older brother had survived that explosion.  
  
***  
  
Scott uncurled slowly, feeling bits of debris fall off him. 'It's like Regnad all over again.' he thought. Apart from a general soreness he appeared to have escaped any real injury. "Percy?" he asked. "Can you hear me Percy?"  
  
There was no reply.  
  
"Percy?"  
  
He received a reply, but this was from the speakers within his hood. "Scott, are you reading me?"  
  
"I'm here, Alan and I'm okay. I don't know about our victim though, I'm going to have to try to find him. What happened?" Scott was feeling about for his "Sonar Sender". It had been detached from his collar during the melee. He found it hanging from its safety chain and, with difficulty because of his gloves, reaffixed it. Satisfied that it was still working he felt about to find his cane. His searching hands were unable to seek it out.  
  
"We don't know. Something exploded."  
  
"Are you guys okay?" Scott was searching for Percy now.  
  
"We are. Thunderbird Two's a mile away. I guess he took evasive action, hang on, he's calling us. Go ahead Virgil."  
  
Alan didn't shut down the link and Scott could hear him conversing with Virgil. "So you've got no damage, Virg?"  
  
"Nothing we need worry about. I'm going to get back into position."  
  
"Sorry about that Scott." Alan's voice became clearer. "He's fine. He'll give us a reading on your victim's position shortly."  
  
"Percy."  
  
"Huh."  
  
"Percy. Our victim's name is Percy." Scott's hands were still feeling over the rubble, trying to find the missing man. His "Sonar Sender" picked up something with a softer texture than the rest of the rubble. He felt his way closer and touched something that yielded.  
  
It was an arm.  
  
He felt his way up the arm and found the switch that activated the Vital Signs Monitor. "Alan. I've turned on Percy's VSM. How is he?"  
  
"I've got a reading, Scott. He's out cold, there's a slight reduction in blood pressure, but otherwise seems fine. Are you going to be able to get him out of there?"  
  
"I don't know that I can carry him over all this rubble alone, and I've lost my cane. Anyway, I don't want to risk moving him any more than I have to. Better tell Gordon to get suited up and bring a stretcher."  
  
"He's already got that under control. How's the "Sonar Sender" holding up?"  
  
"Another of Brains' miracle gadgets. It's working like a charm." Scott started to clear the debris away from on top of Percy.  
  
"Thunderbird Two to Scott."  
  
"I'm here Virgil."  
  
"So I see. I've got you on my scanners. Both of you."  
  
"Did you hear what I was talking to Alan about?"  
  
"Yes. I guess I'd better direct Gordon to your position."  
  
***  
  
Gordon stopped at Mobile Control one more time before he headed into the inky blackness of the smoke filled building. "Any last instructions, Alan?"  
  
"Yeah. Be careful. Virgil's going to guide you."  
  
"Good." Gordon pulled his hood over his head and made sure the collapsible stretcher was strapped firmly to his backpack. "Wish me luck."  
  
"Good luck."  
  
Gordon approached the writhing mass of black smoke with some trepidation. He'd felt a profound sense of unease when he last entered that black hole with Scott, and now he was going to have to enter alone and find his way to his brother. "Nothing to it!" he told himself, but his own bravado was failing him.  
  
Nervously he took his first steps through the smoke. 


	33. Sixty Four

Sixty Four- BF  
  
The blackness was oppressive. Gordon remembered that Scott had said that this hallway was clear of debris. He moved forward hoping that that last explosion hadn't brought anything down to block his way. He wished he'd had the foresight to bring something that could have acted as a cane of his own. Anything to give him the reassurance that he wasn't going to bump into something ahead.  
  
Reassurance came in a different form. "You're doing well, Gordon? You're covered a third of the distance already." Gordon wondered if this was how Scott had felt a year ago in Regnad when Virgil had guided him through those subterranean corridors. If the sound of his brother's voice had brought the same sense of relief.  
  
"That far? I thought I'd only gone a couple of metres." Despite the good news Gordon had to fight the temptation to turn and head back the to safety.  
  
"Nope. You're halfway now. You're doing better than Scott did."  
  
"Only because he trail blazed for me." - 'Keep talking to me, Virgil" Gordon prayed.  
  
As if he'd heard the prayer Virgil did so. "What equipment have you got?"  
  
"The usual, plus the stretcher." Gordon's palms were sweating.  
  
"Plenty of oxygen?"  
  
"Yep." Gordon moved to wipe sweat from his forehead and found his arm impeded by his hood.  
  
"That's two thirds of the way. What's it like down there?"  
  
"Black. I feel as if I'm in some kind of mini black hole. That's the only way I can think of to describe it." Gordon was feeling as if the entire universe was pressing down on him.  
  
"I wonder what went wrong with the sensors."  
  
"Yeah. I bet Brains is tearing his hair out at the moment." - 'Of all the things to fail! Why'd they have to fail?" Gordon thought. 'Why am I doing this?'  
  
"There must be a logical reason. You've got about a metre to go."  
  
Gordon slowed down and reached out in front of him. He felt the wall.  
  
"The door should be off to your right. It's in the right wall in the corner."  
  
Gordon found the door. He turned the handle and pushed.  
  
It moved, but only enough to be annoying.  
  
Gordon placed his shoulder to the door and pushed again. The door moved marginally more and then stopped. "There must be some debris in the way." He said frustratedly. "I'll need help." He changed the channel to three-way communication. "Scott. Can you hear me?"  
  
"What's up Gordon?"  
  
"I can't get this door open. Can you clear some of the debris away?"  
  
"Are you there already? Hey Gordon. Well done!"  
  
"Thanks." Gordon could hear Scott stumbling over the debris and Virgil directing him to the door. "I can hear you Scott."  
  
There was a stumbling/falling sound and a soft "oof" in their speakers. "Are you okay?" Virgil asked worriedly.  
  
"Yeah. Didn't see that one." Scott was on his feet again and feeling his way for the door. He found the gap that Gordon had just made and put his hand through. He found Gordon's arm.  
  
To Gordon the touch of another human being felt like he'd been thrown a life preserver. He grabbed Scott's hand and held it momentarily.  
  
"I know just what you mean." Scott grunted in reply to Gordon's unspoken sentiment. "Now to try to clear some of this rubbish."  
  
"This must be what John feels like." Virgil grumbled. "Absolutely helpless."  
  
"Not helpless and not useless." Scott told him. "Keep talking."  
  
"Please." Gordon couldn't help adding.  
  
"I wonder how the Tigers are getting on." Virgil found a topic that had helped him cope while he was trapped in Regnad. One that he knew would occupy Gordon's thoughts.  
  
"The Tigers?" Gordon managed a laugh. "They haven't a hope. The Sharks'll walk all over them."  
  
"Never! Trainer is back to full fitness."  
  
"So is Marks. He's the best in the league."  
  
"Rubbish. English would match him any day."  
  
"I'd like to see him try..."  
  
"Try and push now, Gordon." Scott interrupted. "I'll pull on this side."  
  
They got the door open a bit further. "Hang on Scott." Gordon said as he slipped his pack off his shoulders. "You take my bag and the stretcher and I'll see if I can slip through."  
  
"We'll need the opening big enough to take this fully extended." Scott said as he took the stretcher.  
  
"I'll help you clear some more of the debris." Gordon said and he squeezed through the opening. "What's that they say about many hands?"  
  
Just finding a piece that he could move, was a challenge to Gordon, but he seized upon it gladly as it helped keep his mind of the pressing blackness.  
  
"How's it going guys?" Alan's voice asked.  
  
"We're about to try to open the door a little more." Scott told him. "How's Percy's VSM reading?"  
  
"There's no change."  
  
"Good." Scott acknowledged. "Have you got a good grip Gordon?"  
  
"Yep." Gordon said determinedly.  
  
With a groan the door opened a little more.  
  
Gordon gave another pull and his gloved fingers slipped off the edge. He landed with a painful thud amongst the ruins. He felt Scott squat down beside him.   
  
"Are you alright!?"   
  
Gordon felt a hand reach out for him. He took a breath to push down the bruising pain. "Yeah, I'm fine." He said, trying to sound cheerful. He shook the outstretched hand and managed to stand again. "Guess we need to clear a bit more."   
  
"Okay." Scott conceded.  
  
Together they managed to move a large beam. The door now swung easily on its hinges. Scott pushed it open to its limits and then retrieved the pack and stretcher. Rather than give it back to Gordon he swung it onto his own back. "Keep your left hand against the wall," he instructed his younger brother, "it's relatively clear on this side. Virgil will tell you when you've gone far enough."  
  
"Okay." Gordon's voice sounded shaky.  
  
"I'll try to give some warning of what's ahead." Scott offered.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"You haven't got far to go fellas." Virgil informed them.  
  
Gordon tripped over a couple of beams on his way to Percy, but continued on doggedly. He knew he'd arrived at his destination when he cannoned into Scott.  
  
Scott moved forward slightly and removed the pack from his back. "There's at least two big beams we've got to move before we can get to him. If I show you where they are, do you think you'll be able to help me?"  
  
"That's what I'm here for."  
  
Scott guided Gordon to the first of the beams and showed him where to grab hold. "You're going to have to move it to your right, okay?"  
  
"Okay." Gordon was determined not to let him down. He was here to do a job.  
  
Scott found his way around to the other end of the beam. "Ready?"  
  
"Ready."  
  
"Lift!" With a grunt they lifted the beam off the prone body and managed to move it clear.  
  
"Only one more to go." Scott said reassuringly as he assisted Gordon to the next beam.  
  
This was slightly heavier, but didn't have to be moved as far. It was relief that they dumped it back on the ground.  
  
"Whew." Gordon rotated his shoulders to loosen them. "Next time I'll bring a crane."  
  
Scott was retrieving the stretcher, which he extended to its full length and placed beside Percy. "Where are you Gordon?"  
  
"Over here."  
  
Scott found him and took him around so he was standing beside Percy's legs. Then he made his own way so he was standing besides the man's head. "Okay. We don't have to shift him far. I've managed to slip the stretcher under his side.  
  
Gordon reached over and found the stretcher. "Okay, I've got it."  
  
They slid Percy onto the stretcher and then strapped him on.  
  
Scott found his and Gordon's packs. He handed one to Gordon. "I'll go in front and then the stretcher will guide you. Okay."  
  
Gordon swallowed. "Piece of cake." He put on his pack.  
  
Scott patted him on the shoulder and then led him to his end of the stretcher. He then made his own way back to the other end.  
  
Before Scott readied himself to lift the stretcher he changed the radio to two-way communication. "Virgil?"  
  
"Yeah Scott?"  
  
"I'm on two-way. I'm going to have to concentrate on the "Sonar Sender". I've lost my cane, not that I could use it and carry the stretcher anyway. All Gordon has to do is follow my lead. "  
  
"Are you going to be able to get out okay?" Scott could hear concern in Virgil's voice.  
  
"We'll be fine once we get through that door. But Gordon's struggling with all this. I want you to keep talking to him and keep him focused. Just like you helped me at Regnad."  
  
"It was slightly different then."  
  
"Yeah I know. But you've got a reassuring voice. I should know. You can help him."  
  
"Scott..." a plaintive voice interrupted their conversation. "What's the hold up?"  
  
Scott switched back to three-way communication. "Sorry Gordon. Have you got the handles?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Lift!"  
  
Percy was hoisted into the air. 


	34. Sixty Five

Sixty Five - BF  
  
Virgil was frantically trying to think of something he could say to Gordon. It had to be something relevant to the rescue, but he didn't want to worry Gordon any more than necessary. "Come on, Virgil. Think!" he said impatiently.  
  
At that moment Gordon was concentrating on trying to maintain his footing and listening out for Scott's directions. Something gave way under his foot and he slipped, dropping his end of the stretcher.  
  
"Are you okay, Gordon?" Scott asked anxiously.  
  
"Yep." Gordon said through gritted teeth. "I'm just going to have a whacking great bruise on my leg, that's all. How's Percy?"  
  
Scott hadn't let go of his end of the stretcher. "How's Percy, Alan?"   
  
"No change."  
  
"Good." Gordon grunted as he found his feet and then the stretcher handles again. "I'm ready, Scott. Move on."  
  
"You're getting close, fellas." Virgil reassured them. "You're nearly to the door and then you'll be on the home straight."  
  
"How far?" Gordon asked.  
  
"Five metres maybe."  
  
"That far!"  
  
"Relax Gordon. You'll be there before you know it. Tell you what, what say we organise an obstacle course when we get home. You can challenge Scott to a race. I'd bet you'd give him a run for his money."  
  
"No thanks, Virgil. I aim to hang onto my sight for as long as possible. Sorry Scott."  
  
"That's okay, Gordon. I aim to take care of mine after tomorrow. There's a bit of a beam here you'll have to climb over."  
  
Gordon tried to estimate where this beam was but still managed to bang his shins on it. Gingerly he stepped over. "How far now, Virgil?"  
  
"Two metres."  
  
"We seem to have a clear run here. Must be where we cleared the debris away." Scott announced. "I think I've got a reading on the door. We'll put Percy down here and swap ends. Hang on. I'll come and get you."  
  
Gordon resisted the temptation to throw his arms around Scott when he felt his brother reach him. The sensory deprivation was really getting to him and the touch of another human was the only thing that stopped him feeling that he was going mad. "It's going to be easy from here on isn't it?" he asked eagerly.  
  
"Sure." Scott said confidently. "No sweat."  
  
"Nothing to it." Virgil confirmed. "You'll be able to do twice the speed you did getting in from here on."  
  
They managed to twist the stretcher around so that they were able to get it through the door. They were finally in the clear hallway.  
  
"Do you want me to lead again, Gordon?" Scott asked.  
  
"Uh. Yes please."  
  
"Start talking, Virgil." Scott instructed.  
  
"What's the first thing you're going to do when you get back to base, Gordon?" Virgil asked.  
  
"Something that involves a lot of light. I don't know, maybe just sit on the beach and watch the ocean."  
  
"That's a surprise." Virgil said with a slight trace of sarcasm in his voice.  
  
"Well, why'd you ask me then?"  
  
Whatever reply Virgil had in mind was cut off.  
  
Cut off by the explosion that rocked the very room they were in... 


	35. Sixty Six

Sixty Six - BF  
  
The stretcher Percy was lying on was wrenched from their hands by the force of the explosion. Instinctively Scott dove over the injured man to try to protect him from any potential threat.  
  
Gordon was thrown against the wall and then flung to the floor. Already unnerved by the alien environment he was working in, this new threat was too much. He curled up into a ball and started yelling.  
  
As the noise from the explosion and falling rubble died away Scott became aware of this strange new sound. "Gordon?" He gingerly lifted his weight off Percy. "Alan! What happened?" He started feeling his way over the newly displaced debris towards his brother.  
  
"I don't know. There was another explosion somewhere in the complex. Are you guys alright?"  
  
"I am, but I don't know about Gordon." Scott knew he'd reached his objective when he brushed against something soft and then a hand grabbed his arm. "Gordon! Are you okay?"   
  
Gordon's grip was like iron. "Scott! I've got to get out of here! I've got to get out now!"  
  
"Gordon! Calm down! It's okay."  
  
"No it's not. I can't take this. I've got to get out!" Gordon stood, took a step and overbalanced on the uneven floor. He fell with an alarming crash amongst the rubble.  
  
"Gordon! Are you alright?" Scott was feeling about for his brother again.  
  
"No I'm not. I've got to get out!" Gordon yelled hysterically.  
  
Scott was hit by a flailing arm. 'Is this how Virgil felt dealing with me?' he asked himself grimly. He grabbed the arm and held the hand tightly. "Gordon listen to me! Are you hurt?"  
  
"H-Hurt? N-No. I've just got to get out of h-here!"  
  
"Gordon. I need your help to get Percy out of here."  
  
"Can't help. I c-can't help."  
  
"Calm down Gordon." Scott begged. "Please calm down."  
  
Alan was listening to this exchange. "Scott! Do you want me to come in there?"  
  
"No I don't!" Scott yelled and then calmed down himself. "Sorry Alan. But you don't have the experience either. I couldn't deal with the two of you." He took a breath. "How's Percy?"  
  
"Percy? He's fine. There's no change to his stats. What are you going to do?"  
  
"I don't know Alan. I've got to get Gordon to calm down, then we've got to get out of here. Virgil! Are you listening?"  
  
"I'm here Scott."  
  
"Help me."  
  
"Help you? How?"  
  
"Talk to Gordon. You kept me calm in Regnad."  
  
"But I was with you then!"  
  
"Virgil! Just try it will you!" Scott was hit by and managed to grab Gordon's other flailing hand.  
  
"Gordon. Please try to calm down." Virgil said lamely. Then an idea came to him. "John. I could use your help here."  
  
"What can I do?"  
  
"You're good at this. Help me talk to Gordon. I'll put the circuit onto three-way"  
  
John bit his lip. Gordon was at his calmest about water. "Try to get him to imagine that he's underwater."  
  
"Imagine that he's..." then Virgil shrugged. At least it was an idea. He donned a headset so that he could talk directly to Gordon without his brother hearing any other conversations that were being carried out. "Gordon can you hear me? Listen to me. I'm going to paint you a picture."  
  
"I can't see it!" Gordon panted in reply.  
  
"No. It's going to be a verbal picture. I want you to imagine it. Close your eyes Gordon."  
  
"It's already dark!"  
  
"Doesn't matter. I want you to imagine what I'm going to say to you. You're swimming. You're scuba diving. The fire suit you're wearing is actually your wet suit. Your pack is actually your oxygen tank..."  
  
The word oxygen sent warning bells ringing in Scott's brain. How much did they have left? He'd been using his the longest. Percy had a smaller canister. Gordon's hyperventilating would mean that he would be using his oxygen supply quickly.  
  
"Gordon!" He interrupted. "I need to let go of your hands for a short time."  
  
"No!"  
  
"Please Gordon. I'll be as quick as I can. Just listen to Virgil and John okay?"  
  
"I want to get out. I've got to see something."  
  
"Talk to him Virgil!" Scott released Gordon's hands and stepped back quickly to avoid being grabbed again.  
  
"You're going deeper into the water. You're not sinking, it's a controlled descent. You're diving into the... the..." Virgil's mind went blank. He flicked a switch so that John and Alan could hear him, but Gordon couldn't. "Quickly! What's the name of that trench in the Pacific Ocean? You know the really deep one."  
  
John was onto Thunderbird Five's computer. "I don't know. I'll look it up." He said urgently.  
  
"Come on Johnny. What's it called?"  
  
"The Mariana Trench" Alan said calmly.  
  
They were stunned for a moment. "How'd you know that?" John asked.  
  
"Gordon showed me a book on it the other day."  
  
"Good. You can do this then." Virgil said eagerly.  
  
"No way! I only remember the name 'cause it's the same as a new model of car."  
  
"Great!" Virgil muttered before reinstating his link with Gordon. "Sorry Gordon. Slight technical hitch with Thunderbird Two. You are descending into the Mariana Trench. You can feel the water about you. It's supporting you, calming you. You can feel the currents massaging you. The water is changing from aqua marine, to..." he stopped. Gordon wouldn't know what he's talking about if he were to name actual pigment colours. "The water's changing colour from pale blue, to a deeper blue to dark blue. It's getting darker and darker, but you don't mind. You feel perfectly safe..."  
  
Scott was feeling about in his pack. He retrieved a spare oxygen cylinder and made his way over to the stretcher. "What's Percy's oxygen levels, Alan?"  
  
"They're low, but not critical."  
  
"Okay. I'll change his cylinder first. Then I'll try to change Gordon's."  
  
"What about you?"  
  
"I've still got some. I'll get a spare out of Gordon's pack when I change his."  
  
"Well don't leave it too long. You've still got to get them out of there."  
  
"Has Brains worked out what's happened with the sensors?"  
  
"He thinks there must be something in the smoke that's blocking the signals. He wants us to run some tests before we head home. We might have to wash Thunderbird Two down before we leave if it proves to be some kind of contaminant. We don't want to be spraying harmful stuff over half the planet."  
  
"Thunderbird Two?" Scott said absently. He was concentrating on removing one oxygen cylinder and replacing it with another.  
  
"Last time I saw her she was as black as the ace of spades. Virgil's going to have a fit when he sees her."  
  
"There's fish swimming about you." Virgil was running out of ideas.  
  
Gordon was starting to calm down. "What kind of fish?"   
  
"Oh." Virgil was stumped. He didn't know. "Angel fish?" he hazarded.  
  
"You don't find them here." Gordon informed him.  
  
"How about starfish?" John suggested.  
  
"A starfish." Virgil repeated to Gordon. "One of those translucent ones that gives off it's own light."  
  
Gordon must have been satisfied by this as he made no comment.  
  
John was bringing up the subject on the computer. "Good choice Virgil. Tell him he's surrounded by lots of them. I'll get you more info."  
  
Virgil didn't get the chance to continue as Scott interrupted. "Gordon. I'm going to replace your oxygen cylinder and then get a spare out of your pack. Okay?"  
  
Gordon was sounding nearly normal. "Okay Scott. Now what else can I see Virgil?"  
  
Scott felt around until he found where Gordon's oxygen cylinder was housed in his suit. He got a spare out of his own pack, bled some oxygen into Gordon's mask to keep him going during the changeover, and then quickly removed the old cylinder and replaced it with a fresh one.   
  
It wasn't till he'd finished that he realised how easily he was managing all these tasks. The thought surprised him somewhat. He was finally getting the hang of this blindness lark just when he was going to regain his sight again. He grinned at the thought.  
  
A beeping sound wiped the smile from his face.  
  
The signal told him that his own cylinder only had fifteen minutes of air left.  
  
He found Gordon's pack.  
  
It was open.  
  
He felt inside.   
  
It was empty.  
  
He didn't have time to ponder how this had happened. Clearly everything had fallen out when Gordon had fallen over. Scott felt about, but couldn't find any of the lifesaving cylinders.  
  
He only had twelve minutes of air left.  
  
He had to get out of there.  
  
"Virgil. Get John to talk to Gordon. I need your help. Switch to two way."  
  
Virgil complied. "What's up?"  
  
"We've run out of oxygen cylinders."  
  
"What! How!"  
  
"Gordon's pack was open."  
  
"Gordon left his pack open? He must have been really stressed to forget that. How much oxygen have you got left?"  
  
"Enough." Scott prayed he was telling the truth. "But I'm totally disoriented. Which way's out."   
  
Virgil looked at the screen that represented the positions of the three men in the building below Thunderbird Two. "Take a step to your left." Scott complied. "Okay. That's the way you've got to go."  
  
"Good, thanks." Scott stepped up to where he thought Gordon was. "Gordon? Are you ready to move?"  
  
Gordon stopped telling John about the sunken ship he was currently exploring in his mind. "Move?"  
  
"Yes. We've got to get out of here."  
  
"I don't think I can."  
  
Scott knelt down. "Come on Gordon. This is your big brother you're dealing with. I've always looked after you haven't I? Who took you to swimming practise every morning? Who made sure you always had your lunch before you left for school? Who stuck up for you when the bigger kids called you 'Matchstick'."  
  
"You." Gordon said quietly.  
  
"Who caught you sneaking out of Old Man Burstead's place with an armload of apples?"  
  
"That was John."  
  
"Right. And who was it who calmed Dad down before he told you off for stealing."  
  
"You."  
  
"Have I ever let you down?"  
  
"No... I'm sure it was John who told on me."  
  
"You can ask him later. But now I need your help. Percy needs your help. And by helping us you can get out of here."  
  
There was silence.  
  
"Are you with me Gordon?"  
  
"I'll try."  
  
"That's all I'm asking for. Come on. Get onto your feet and let's get out of here." Scott felt Gordon stand up. "Have you got the stretcher?"  
  
"I've got it Scott." Gordon's voice was quiet.  
  
Scott found the other end. "Right! Lift!" Another signal went off in his helmet. Only ten minutes of oxygen left. If they weren't out by the five minute warning he'd have to get Alan to come in with a replacement. "Come on Gordon. Let's get out of here!"  
  
They started moving forward. 


	36. Sixty Seven

Sixty Seven - BF  
  
Scott found himself counting down his steps as he got closer to the exit.  
  
'twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen.'  
  
"We are going the right way aren't we Scott?"  
  
"We must be, Gordon. Virgil would tell us if we weren't." 'Twenty, twenty one, twenty two.' He tried to stop his incessant counting.  
  
A brief blip warned him that his oxygen levels were down to seven and a half minutes.  
  
"How far Virgil?" he asked urgently.  
  
"Maybe five metres. I've told Alan to make sure he's suited up and has a spare oxygen cylinder for you. You've only got to say the word and he'll be in there."  
  
Once again Scott silently thanked his lucky stars that Virgil was there.  
  
"How much oxygen have you got left?"  
  
"Enough."  
  
"Scott!" Virgil sounded stern. "We're on two-way here. Tell me! How much oxygen have you got left?"  
  
"About seven minutes."  
  
"Seven minutes! I'm sending Alan in now!"  
  
"No Virgil! Don't! I'm having enough trouble worrying about Gordon. I couldn't deal with Alan freaking out as well."  
  
"He doesn't have far to go..."  
  
"I'm wasting oxygen discussing this with you. If we're not out by the five minute mark I'll tell you and you can send him in then. Till then don't worry him!"  
  
Virgil was unconvinced. "Okay..." He turned his attention to the chronometer on Thunderbird Two's control panel and started counting down the seconds. 'Twenty two, twenty one, twenty, nineteen...'  
  
He jumped when a warning buzzer sounded from the speakers. He'd left the link between himself and Scott open. It was the five-minute warning. He slammed the switch that connected him to Mobile Control. "Alan. Get in there! Scott's only got five minutes of oxygen left!"  
  
Alan sprung to his feet and started sprinting to where he knew the doorway, still hidden behind the writhing clouds of black smoke, should be.  
  
He couldn't find it.  
  
"Virgil!" he yelled. "How do I get in?"  
  
"You're right there, Alan. It's right in front of you!"  
  
"I can't feel it. I'm sure Gordon left the door open."  
  
"What can you feel?"  
  
"Debris. That last explosion must have brought the wall down!" Alan had slowed down his frantic searching and was feeling the wall more systematically. "I've found a hole."  
  
"How big?"  
  
"I can fit my arm through it."  
  
"And an oxygen cylinder too?"  
  
"I think so."  
  
'Thank heavens for small mercies.' Virgil thought. "Scott. You're right at the exit now."  
  
"Good." Scott acknowledged.  
  
"The exit's blocked."  
  
"Not good!" Scott felt a surge of alarm.  
  
"Alan's found a small hole. He can put an oxygen cylinder through it. Can you find his arm?"  
  
"Gordon! We're putting down Percy." Scott instructed.  
  
"What's wrong?" They'd kept Gordon out of the loop to stop him from worrying.  
  
"Sorry Gordon. The exit's blocked." Scott said. 'Don't panic Gordon' he thought.  
  
"What? Do the guys know?"  
  
"Alan's outside. He's found a small hole."  
  
"How small?"  
  
"Gordon! I'm just about out of oxygen. Alan can get a cylinder through the hole, but I need your help to find it. Can you help me?"  
  
Gordon felt his way along the edge of the stretcher until he reached the end. He reached out and felt Scott's shoulder. "Tell me where to look."  
  
"Move to your left and feel around there. Alan? How high is the hole?"  
  
"Um. About my waist level."  
  
"Gordon. You're level with Alan." Virgil told him.  
  
Gordon felt the wall and found a hand sticking through. "Nice to meet you."  
  
Alan withdrew his hand and replaced it with the spare cylinder. "Have you got it?"  
  
"Got it!" Gordon felt his way along to where he thought Scott was.  
  
"I'm coming in to land." Virgil announced. "I'll get some gear out to break through that wall."  
  
Gordon found Scott. He pressed the cylinder into his brother's hand. "Can you manage this?"  
  
"Yep." Scott was feeling light-headed, so he moved quickly. He'd already got the spent cylinder ready for removal. He quickly detached it and dropped it to the ground. Then he readied the fresh cylinder.  
  
His gloved fingers lost their grip on the oxygen supply. "I've dropped it!"  
  
"What!?" Instantly Gordon was on his hands and knees feeling about. He found a cylinder. It was too light to be full. He tucked it into a pocket and continued his frantic search.  
  
Scott braced himself against the wall. It was getting hot in this suit. His mouth was dry. It was also becoming hard to remain focused. He became aware that it was becoming more difficult to breathe.  
  
His legs gave out and he slid to the ground. 'Come on Gordon!'  
  
His thoughts were echoed by Alan's voice. "Come on Gordon!"  
  
"I've found it!" Keeping a firm grip on the cylinder Gordon felt about blindly and came in contact with a knee. He traced it up Scott's leg until he found his torso. "Hang in there brother!" He found the oxygen supply line and managed to attach the life-giving cylinder. "Scott. I've done it! Are you okay?"  
  
Scott was too busy getting a lung full of fresh oxygen to answer. He managed to squeeze Gordon's arm in recognition of what had been achieved.  
  
"Gordon!" Virgil yelled. "How is he?"  
  
"I think he's okay." Gordon replied.  
  
"Yeah. I'm okay." Scott gasped. "Just getting my breath back. Thanks Gordo'."  
  
***  
  
Outside their brothers were setting up the rescue equipment. Alan readied a laser while Virgil positioned a giant fan. "I don't know if this is going to work..." he said as he switched it on.  
  
Miraculously the breeze from the fan cleared the smoke away from where the door used to be. Now with full visibility it took only a matter of minutes for Alan and Virgil to cut through the debris. They rushed inside.  
  
Alan found Gordon. "Go on. Get out of here. We'll take care of things."  
  
But Gordon was determined to finish what he'd started. "I'm okay. Let's get this guy out of here." He headed to his end of Percy's stretcher. "Are you ready, Alan?"  
  
Alan had positioned himself at Scott's end. "I'm ready. Lift."  
  
Virgil reached Scott's side. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine." Scott got to his feet. "I wouldn't mind being guided out of here though."  
  
Virgil could see that everything else was under control. "Hang on, I want to get a couple of samples of the debris for analysis. We've got to find out what was jamming our scanners." He picked up some lumps of material for Brains and then returned to Scott. "Take my arm. Where do you want to go? Do you want to go to the sick bay?"  
  
"No. I don't need to do that. You can help me to Mobile Control."  
  
***  
  
Alan and Gordon took Percy to the gate of the security cordon, passed him over to the care of the local Paramedics and watched as he was carried away to a waiting ambulance. Then they turned to head back to Mobile Control.   
  
Alan was surprised when Gordon grabbed his arm.  
  
"My legs have just turned to jelly. I think I'll sit down for a bit."  
  
Alan aided him to the ground. "Are you okay? Do you want a Paramedic to look at you?" he asked in concern.  
  
"No. I'll be okay. I just need a moment to regain my composure." He lay down.  
  
"Can I do anything, get you anything?" Alan crouched beside his brother.  
  
Gordon shook his head. "I just want to enjoy a little light for a minute or so. It was so dark in there. Unbelievably dark." He turned his head so that he could see Scott sitting at Mobile Control. "I don't know how he's coped this past year. Goodness only knows how he managed to get through Regnad. I think I would have gone mad."  
  
"Are you sure there's nothing I can do?"  
  
"No. I'm fine thanks Alan." Gordon said quietly.  
  
"Okay. I'll be over at Mobile Control if you want me."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Scott was talking to his father when Alan reached him. "Hang on. Here's Alan. I'll ask him."  
  
"Ask him what?"  
  
"How's Gordon?"  
  
"Pretty shaken up. He's having a lie down. His legs gave out on him. He says he's fine though. Where's Virgil?"  
  
"Brains wants to know what it was that caused the sensors to fail." His father told him. "Virgil's running some tests on the smoke and anything else he can find."  
  
"Good. We don't want our equipment failing again."  
  
"I think Gordon would agree with you." Scott stood. "I'll have a word with him. Where is he, Alan? In the sick bay?"  
  
"No. He's just over there."  
  
Gordon was still lying on the ground when Scott reached him. "How're you feeling Gordo'?"  
  
"I'm shaking like a leaf Scott! I never want to go through an experience like that again. I don't know how you've survived the past year. I would have gone mad by now."  
  
"A year ago and I would have... I did say the same thing. But you learn to cope. Think about it Gordon, I'd say that I would go crazy if I was stuck in a wheelchair for months, with every chance of never being able to walk again. But you did it. After your hovercraft accident you had to live like that and you coped. You came to accept it didn't you."  
  
"I see what you mean. But I don't know that I did accept it, I fought to be able to walk again."  
  
"But if you'd failed, you would have coped wouldn't you."  
  
"Well... yes I guess I would have. I would have had to."  
  
"It's been the same for me."  
  
"How come you're so strong and I'm such a wimp?"  
  
Scott crouched down so that he didn't have to talk so loud. "Two things Gordon. One - you're not a wimp. You got in there unaided and helped me get Percy out to safety. And two. You didn't see me at my worst, and believe me, my worst was worse than you just were."  
  
"You?"  
  
"Me. Look this isn't the place to discuss this. What say I travel back with you guys in Thunderbird Two and I'll tell you about it?"  
  
"I'd like that."  
  
"Okay. Do you feel up to giving us a hand, starting with helping me back to Mobile Control? I'm a bit lost in strange surroundings without my cane."  
  
"Yeah, I'll help. If I can get my legs going in the same direction!"  
  
Scott laughed as he assisted his brother to his feet. They started to walk back to Mobile Control.   
  
"Gordon. I wanted to say thanks for helping me out back there. You were literally a lifesaver."  
  
"It was my fault you ran out of oxygen. It was the least I could do."  
  
***  
  
"What! You're actually volunteering to ride in Thunderbird Two when you could be in Thunderbird One!" Alan was amazed. "You're going to let me fly her solo?"  
  
"Make the most of it kid. After tomorrow you're not going to get a look in. I want my 'bird back!"  
  
"I'll leave the keys on your pillow for when you wake up."  
  
Virgil emerged from Thunderbird Two and made his way over to Mobile Control. "Mind if I have a word with base?" he asked Alan who was still seated at the console. "I've got the results from the tests of the residue on Thunderbird Two." He looked at his sooty black plane and made a face. "I've got a heck of a clean up job when we get home."  
  
Alan slid out of his seat. "Help yourself."  
  
"Mobile Control to Thunderbird Five. Come in John."  
  
"Hi Virgil. Have you got the test results?"  
  
"Yes. Can you put me through to Brains?"  
  
Brains bespectacled face appeared on the monitor. "W-What have you found out, V-Virgil?"  
  
"Plenty of carbon and not much else. Thunderbird Two is covered in charcoal! The spectrograph isn't reading anything dangerous so I think we'll be safe flying her home. What do you reckon?"  
  
"I c-concur Virgil. But please make sure you have an unc-contaminated sample for my analysis. If there is anything th-that is capable of bl-blocking our signals I want to know wh-what it is."  
  
"Don't we all Brains. Don't we all." Virgil agreed. "I've already got a sample stashed away for you. Tell Father we'll be leaving shortly."  
  
"F-A-B."  
  
As Brains' face disappeared from the monitor Virgil turned away from Mobile Control. "Well Gordon. How're you feeling now?"  
  
"Not so shaky." Gordon admitted. "We've got a passenger for the homeward flight."  
  
"We have?"  
  
"I told Gordon I'd travel with you guys and we could discuss what happened." Scott told him. "You don't mind?"  
  
"Of course not." Virgil smiled. "I've had enough watery tales for one day, and that's all Gordon will want to talk about with me."  
  
*** 


	37. Sixty Eight

Sixty Eight - BF  
  
Thunderbird Two was well into the trip home.  
  
"I don't know how I could have come to have left my pack open." Gordon apologised. "I don't even remember opening it. I'm sorry Scott."  
  
"Don't worry about it Gordon. We made it out safely, that's all that matters at the moment."  
  
"But I still feel bad. What if it happens again?"  
  
"It won't. I'm sure it won't." Scott reassured him.  
  
"I don't know how you managed to cope at Regnad." Gordon said. "I mean you were blind and trapped. At least we knew how to get out back there."  
  
"Yes but don't forget I had Virgil with me and he could see where we were going and he was able to guide and protect me. You had to rely on me giving you directions almost remotely. I know how important that human touch can be and how frightening it is when you lose it. That's when you start to panic."  
  
"But you didn't panic... Did you?" Gordon was amazed at this admission.  
  
Scott was nodding. "When Virgil was unconscious I just lost it. I felt totally isolated. And helpless. Really helpless. And it's not a pleasant feeling is it."  
  
"No." Gordon agreed. "But after you were rescued. When you realised that your blindness was permanent, you managed to cope okay. Didn't you?"  
  
Scott was shaking his head now. "Not at first. I just wanted to give up. That first morning in rehab I was determined that I was going to stay in bed all my life. Stay where I was safe. It was only when Father told me that one of the male nurses would come and dress me that I thought I should try to retain some dignity. Say Virgil?" he addressed the general direction of the pilots seat. "Did you ever meet 'Butch'?"  
  
"Yes I did. Why? He wasn't the one who was going to get you up was he?" Virgil started to laugh.  
  
"Yes." Scott said slowly. "Why are you laughing?"  
  
"You obviously never met him. He's lucky if he's five foot tall and he's as thin as a rail. You floored me with your punch, if you'd hit him you would have sent him sailing into the next county. Mind you your fist probably would have sailed over his head anyway."  
  
"I was duped." Scott was amazed.  
  
"I don't know." Virgil said. "He didn't stand any nonsense. He would have got you up somehow. Probably with a jack and a crane."  
  
"So why did you hit Virgil?" Gordon asked the logical question.  
  
"I think..." Scott said slowly, "that I was punishing him for not letting me die, for ensuring that I was going to have to put up with emotional pain for the rest of my life."  
  
"Oh well. As long as there was a logical reason for it." Virgil said lightly. "I'm glad you didn't hit me for no good reason."  
  
"Sorry Virgil."  
  
"Don't start that again. You've already apologised and I've forgiven you."  
  
"Emotional pain?" Gordon asked, curious.  
  
"Yeah. Those first three weeks I seemed to feel nothing but pain. Aside from the physical pain of my burned face and the bruises and grazes I kept on getting, there was the pain of not being in control. And the pain of not seeing any future for myself. I was a pilot and here I was unable to fly..."  
  
"You proved yourself wrong there." Gordon noted.  
  
"Yes I did, didn't I." Scott sounded surprised at the realisation. "And I thought I was useless to International Rescue. All I could see myself doing was being hidden away on the island being spoon fed by Grandma."  
  
"So how did you cope?" Gordon was intrigued.  
  
"I didn't. I think I rationalised that if I was hurting this much then I should try to hurt others around me. Maybe then, I don't know, I think I thought that perhaps I could transfer some of my pain to someone else. Or else I reasoned that if I was feeling this bad then why shouldn't everyone else. I wasn't good company then, was I Virgil."  
  
"No." Virgil said. The humour had gone from his voice.  
  
"I don't know how, or why, you stuck it out."  
  
"I promised you I wouldn't leave you." Virgil reminded him in a monotone.  
  
"So how bad did it get?" Gordon asked. "It must have been pretty bad if hitting Virgil was an option."  
  
"I did worse than that." Scott said quietly.  
  
A slight jolt rocked Thunderbird Two.   
  
Scott felt it.  
  
Gordon didn't. "Worse? What was worse than that?"  
  
Scott suddenly wished that he hadn't suggested having this conversation onboard Thunderbird Two. It would have been better if he'd left it till they'd reached home and then he and Gordon could have talked in private. Virgil, he knew, was listening to every word. "Did I ever apologise to you Virgil?"  
  
"Many times." Virgil said flatly.  
  
"Did you ever forgive me?"  
  
There was a moment of ominous silence. "No."  
  
"Huh?" Gordon's eyes were wide with curiosity. "What did you do?"  
  
"I, uh, I can't remember." Scott lied.  
  
"Can't you, Scott?" Gordon was astounded by the bitterness in his brother's voice. "Do you want me to remind you?"  
  
"No."  
  
Gordon continued to look at his oldest brother, his eyes still wide. Scott had managed to antagonise Virgil? He struggled with the idea. Scott's expression was a mixture of desperation and disbelief.  
  
"For your information, Gordon, and yours, Scott. I can remember exactly what you said. Every single vile word."  
  
"Virgil, don't..." Scott begged. "I didn't mean..."  
  
"'I hate you Virgil. I hate you because you killed Ma. She died knowing you killed her.' That's what you said. You also said. 'I'm glad I can't see you. You look so much like her that every time I saw you I remembered her and how you killed her. And now I don't have to look at you!' That's what you said Scott! Do you remember now?!"  
  
"I remember." Scott said dully. "I'm sorry..."  
  
"Scott!" Gordon exclaimed alarmed by the sudden tension in the cockpit. "Virgil!"  
  
It was as if his brothers weren't aware that he was there.  
  
"How do you think that made me feel?" Virgil asked venomously. "I was trying to help you, Scott, and that's all you can say to me! How you hated me? Well right now the feeling's mutual."  
  
"Virgil..." Scott said weakly. "I didn't mean it."  
  
Gordon was relieved to see the peak of Tracy Island swing briefly into view through the cabin windows.  
  
*** 


	38. Sixty Nine

Sixty Nine - BF  
  
Professor Bunsen, Jeff and Alan were standing on the balcony watching Thunderbird Two's return.  
  
"What an amazing plane." The Professor commented above the roar of the horizontal jets. "So much power."  
  
"Too much power." Alan commented. Thunderbird Two swung around so that her nose was pointing away from the cliff house. The VTOL rockets burst into life. Thunderbird Two briefly rose higher. "He's using way too much power."  
  
Jeff had a worried look on his face. "Something's wrong. Virgil hasn't radioed in requesting clearance to land."  
  
"Perhaps he's not piloting it." Professor Bunsen suggested.  
  
Jeff shook his head. "Gordon knows the protocol. Surely they're not letting Scott fly her."  
  
Alan shook his head. "Thunderbird Two? While Virgil's on board? There's not a chance."  
  
Despite their concerns the actual landing was perfect. Thunderbird Two began to taxi back into the cliff.  
  
"I'm going down there." Jeff stated. "Something's not right."  
  
"I'm coming too." Alan offered.  
  
Bunny Bunsen tagged along out of interest.  
  
***  
  
"Virgil." Scott was saying. "Can we talk about this?"  
  
"Gordon!" Virgil stood and glared at his younger brother. "Get him off my plane now."  
  
"But Virgil." Gordon protested. "Do you want a hand cleaning Thunderbird..."  
  
"Now!" Virgil thundered.  
  
"Come on Scott." Gordon said quietly. "Take my arm." He activated the switch that sent the passenger lift down to them.  
  
When it arrived it was occupied. "What's wrong boys?" Jeff asked.  
  
"All I want to do is get my 'bird ready for her next flight!" Virgil snapped. "Can't I be left alone to do that?"  
  
To Jeff and Alan's eyes Gordon was looking a little pale. "What if I help you Virgil." He offered. "Dad and Alan can take Scott back up."  
  
"Just so long as he goes!"  
  
"Virgil please. Let's talk about this." Scott begged. "You know I'm sorry."  
  
"What's going on?" Jeff tried to get some answers.  
  
"Oh for Pete's sake." Virgil had reached the end of his tether. "I'm outta here. I just hope that International Rescue isn't going to be needed for the next few hours 'cause Thunderbird Two's not going to be ready!" He sat back down in his pilot's seat and began the backwards ride out of the cockpit, feeling all the time that it was a vaguely ridiculous way to storm out of a room.  
  
They watched the panel in the ceiling of the cockpit close after him.  
  
"Amazing" Professor Bunsen breathed.  
  
Scott sank down onto a passenger seat. "He hates me. I can't believe it. He said he hates me!" Then he stood up. "I'm going to have to talk to him."   
  
Gordon caught his arm. "I'm sorry Scott. I wish I hadn't brought it up."  
  
"It's not your fault." Scott said grimly. "The blame rests firmly with me. I should have done something months ago. I guess I'm blind in more ways than one." Ignoring the others he got into the passenger elevator and sent it travelling back up to the lounge.  
  
"Gordon." Jeff tried again patiently. "What's going on?"  
  
Gordon explained what he knew, including repeating word for word Scott's statement that Virgil had quoted. "I've never known Virgil to be like this before. One minute he was laughing and talking with us, and the next... it was like he was a totally different person. Dad! Did you know about this?"  
  
"I didn't know the full story. Virgil only gave me the 'highlights'. He didn't tell me the comment about your mother blaming him. That's ridiculous of course." Jeff ran his hand over his eyes. "He seemed okay about it later on, so I left it. I shouldn't have. This is partly my fault. I think perhaps it'd be better if I talked to Virgil. The mood he's in he's not going to want to listen to Scott." He called the passenger elevator back down.  
  
"I'll take care of Thunderbird Two." Gordon offered. "I'd also like to take Virgil's place on Thunderbird Three in the morning, if that's okay. I couldn't have coped this afternoon if it hadn't been for him talking to me. I at least owe him that."  
  
Jeff gave him a slight smile. "I'd appreciate that son. I'm sure Virgil will too." He stepped into the lift.  
  
"Wait for me." Bunny Bunsen was watching events unfold with obvious fascination. He stepped into the lift beside Jeff. "This is fascinating! The interactive dynamics of a patriarchal masculine familial entity in turmoil."   
  
"What did he just say?" Alan asked Gordon as the lift rose up out of sight.  
  
"I don't know, but I feel like a bug under a microscope." Gordon replied as he walked over to Thunderbird Two's console. He was surprised to find that despite Virgil's outburst he'd started the diagnostic's programme as well as the exterior cleaning one. "There's nothing we can do here at the moment. I think I'll go get changed and then come back down."  
  
"You were joking weren't you?" Alan asked as they rode the lift back up to the lounge. "Scott didn't really say that, did he?"  
  
"He didn't deny it."  
  
They arrived in the lounge.  
  
The only ones present were Brains, who looked alarmed, and the Professor, who looked miffed that he'd been told not to follow Jeff.  
  
"Wh-What happened?" Brains asked. "B-Bunny said Scott and Virgil were arguing."  
  
"Well Virgil was... pretty annoyed with Scott." Gordon said, trying to play it down while the Professor was present.  
  
"He must have b-been." Brains said. "He 'murdered' a piece of m-music."  
  
"He WHAT!?" Alan said. "Virgil! 'Murder' some music! Classical or jazz?"  
  
"C-Classical."  
  
"Ouch!" Gordon winced. "Then he's not annoyed, he's furious!"  
  
"What do you mean 'murdered' the music?" The Professor asked.  
  
"Virgil reckons that if you turn off a piece of music, before the last note is finished, you've 'murdered' it." Alan explained. "He doesn't worry quite so much with jazz..."  
  
"You can never tell the difference in my opinion anyway." Gordon interrupted.  
  
"...But classical pieces are sacrosanct. I snuck into his room once and turned off his stereo when he had some Rachmaninoff, or something, playing, and he literally threw me back into the hall. The bruises lasted a week!"  
  
"Oh." The Professor said agreeably. "Well that makes sense."  
  
*** 


	39. Seventy

Seventy - BF  
  
Scott had made his way to Virgil's room  
  
He knocked tentatively on the door. "Virg. are you in there?"  
  
There was no reply.  
  
He tried again. "Virgil?"  
  
There wasn't a sound from inside the room.  
  
He took a chance, opened the door and stepped inside. "Virgil?" he repeated. "Come on Virgil, I know you're in here. I can hear you breathing."  
  
"Would you rather I stopped breathing?" Virgil's voice was bitter. Scott could now tell that he was lying down on his bed. "Then when you got your sight back tomorrow you wouldn't have to look at me."  
  
"Of course not! I hope you'll be the first person I'll see." Scott felt to his right and found the chair. "Mind if I sit down?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"Please. Let me stay. We need to talk." Scott went to sit down anyway, before standing suddenly and feeling the seat. He removed Virgil's sash and belt and laid them across the chair's arm before sitting down again.  
  
"You've always bossed us around. Well this is my room. You can't boss me in here. I don't want to talk to you."  
  
"Please Virgil. We can't let this come between us."  
  
"You didn't worry about that a year ago."  
  
"That was a year ago! Things were different then."  
  
"Only for you. I still feel the same way."  
  
"What do you want me to do? What do you want to do? What would make you feel better? Do you want to hit me?"  
  
"I wouldn't do anything so crass."  
  
"Like I did?" Scott was determined to keep his temper under control.  
  
"You had an excuse."  
  
"There can be no excuse for hurting someone you care about."  
  
"But words are okay are they?"  
  
"Virgil! I've apologised. Please tell me what I can do to make you feel better towards me."  
  
"You can leave me alone!"  
  
"How have you managed to compartmentalise this? Over this past year, you've never treated me any different."  
  
"I've had practise at 'compartmentalising'. My painting and music have always been separate from my technology skills. Being a Tracy is in a separate compartment from International Rescue, and International Rescue is in a separate compartment from being a Tracy. And don't forget I spent 22 years storing away my guilt over Ma's death. That had a compartment all of its own."  
  
"But you weren't responsible!"  
  
"Wasn't I?"  
  
"I thought we'd ascertained that last year."  
  
"You clearly didn't think so when you were in rehab."  
  
"Why didn't you discuss it with me, or Father, or someone?"  
  
"I didn't want to talk about it. I don't want to talk about it now. I want you to leave!" Virgil pushed a button on his remote control. His stereo started playing a strident piece of music. He turned the volume up so conversation was nigh on impossible.  
  
"Virgil..."  
  
"Scott!" Jeff was standing at the door. "Go get cleaned up."  
  
"But..."  
  
"Scott!" Jeff said forcefully. Then he softened his tone. "Go on son. I'll talk to him."  
  
Reluctantly Scott got to his feet. "Believe me Virgil. I'm sorry for what I said. I never meant it."  
  
Jeff was by his side taking his arm and guiding him to the door. "It's a big day for you tomorrow. It'll be the last chance you'll get to have something to eat for a while. Go have your dinner and then get some rest."  
  
Very much against his will, Scott suddenly found himself outside the room as the door closed behind him.  
  
"Virgil! Turn the music off!" Jeff shouted.  
  
Reluctantly Virgil complied.  
  
"What brought this on, son?" Jeff asked as he shifted the sash and belt to a table and sat on the chair.  
  
Virgil was quiet for a moment, staring at the ceiling. "Gordon was pretty shaken up after helping Scott today. He asked Scott how he managed to cope, being blind. Scott came on board Thunderbird Two with us to explain it to him. Gordon hadn't realised how bad it had been for him at the beginning. I think Scott told him more than he meant to. By the time he'd realised where the conversation was headed, it was too late."  
  
"Did he repeat what he'd said to you?"  
  
Virgil shook his head. "No. I did..."  
  
"Why? It's been nearly a year. Why haven't you discussed it before now?"  
  
"I wanted to forget." Virgil swung himself into a sitting position. "I didn't want to remember that Scott, of all people, had said those words, about me and Ma." He kicked at the carpet.  
  
"He says he didn't mean it. Don't you believe him?"  
  
Virgil looked his father in the eye. "I believe him. It doesn't make it any easier."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
Virgil started pacing about his room. His unshod feet not making a sound on the soft carpet. "I don't think I do either. It's as if... as if..."  
  
"Yes, son?"  
  
"It's as if... No it's too stupid. Too selfish."  
  
"Virgil." Jeff said. "Tell me."  
  
Virgil stopped and leant on his windowsill so he could stare out over the darkening Pacific Ocean. He took a deep breath. "It's as if... With Scott probably regaining his sight tomorrow... It's as if this past year has been a complete waste of time."  
  
Jeff frowned. "What do you mean?"  
  
"It's as if all the struggle, all the pain, all the suffering we've put up with over the past year wasn't necessary. As if, if we'd just hibernated for the year, we could wake up tomorrow and it would be alright."  
  
"Whose pain?" Jeff asked shrewdly.  
  
Virgil turned to look at him and then looked down at his own hands as he twisted his long fingers together in frustration. "Mine... I told you it was selfish."  
  
"You've been Scott's main support throughout all this."  
  
"I know. And I've done it willingly. But now... now that it may be all over, I kinda feel that I've got nothing in return." He frowned. "No that's wrong. Nothing to show for it - that's more like it. And it's not only that..."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"We've all been going on as if tomorrow's a forgone conclusion. As if we're sure that the operation will be a success... and it's not is it! We don't know. I don't think I can go through the emotional turmoil again if it's a failure. I don't know if I've got the strength to support Scott again."  
  
"So you're pushing him away now?" Something didn't sound quite right to Jeff. "Is that why you can't forgive Scott?"  
  
Virgil was staring at his hands as if he'd suddenly found them of great interest. "No." he eventually said. "It's not that I can't forgive Scott. I can't forgive me."  
  
"You?"  
  
Virgil nodded silently.  
  
Jeff waited.  
  
"Son?" he eventually prodded.  
  
"I know the accident that killed Ma and Grandpa wasn't my fault." Virgil said hesitantly. "But did they know that? Did Ma blame me?"  
  
"Oh, Virgil!" Now Jeff understood. "No she didn't blame you. I'm sure she didn't."  
  
"I wish I was sure."  
  
"What was the last thing she said to you?"  
  
"She asked me to paint a picture for her and Grandpa."  
  
"And after that?"  
  
"To paint what was in my heart."  
  
"And?"  
  
"I was to think of her whenever I looked at them."  
  
"And?"  
  
Virgil was speaking in a whisper. The words were imprinted indelibly in his mind. "And remember that she loved me, she loved all of us."  
  
"She loved you, Virgil. She wouldn't have said that if she blamed you. She knew it wasn't your fault."  
  
Virgil said nothing.  
  
Jeff sat back and looked at his son. He wished he could say something that would make Virgil truly believe what he knew to be true. "After we'd opened those boxes I was feeling pretty down. But Grandma told me something that changed my perspective. She said 'Everything happens for a reason'. I would have loved your mother to be with us now that we're International Rescue. She would have been an asset to the team. But the fact is if it hadn't been for that avalanche, International Rescue wouldn't be in existence today."   
  
"So now you're telling me that it's okay that the avalanche happened?" Virgil sounded incredulous.   
  
"No. I'm saying while we lost two people important to the family, we've saved a whole lot more people from having to go through the same trauma we did."  
  
Jeff watched as Virgil frowned and tried to make sense of what had just been said.  
  
"You're an enigma to me, son."  
  
Virgil looked up. "A what?"  
  
"An enigma. I know how the others tick, but I'm never sure with you. I never quite know what's going through your head. You're an artist. Artists are supposed to wear their hearts on their sleeve, and yet you've hidden this away for 23 years."  
  
Virgil looked down again.  
  
"And then there's the fact that you don't promote your talents. Your brothers don't have any problems showing pride in their achievements. Scott lived to fly, John writes astronomy books, Alan's got shelves of his car racing trophies, and Gordon's got his gold medal on the wall. Though where he got his love of water from is another of life's great mysteries. But you? Where are your music certificates?"  
  
"In a box under my bed."  
  
"And your paintings. I know we don't see half of what you do. And if anyone asks if you're any good you say something like. 'Not bad'. It's as if you don't know how good you are. And you are good Virgil."  
  
"I know." Virgil gave something of a wry grin. "They just don't seem to be particularly useful talents."  
  
"Don't you believe it! After a hard day there's nothing I like better than to listen to you play. I find it relaxing." As if to prove a point, Jeff stretched his legs. "You know, I watch you sometimes, when you're painting or playing the piano and I wonder just where do you get that talent from. It's certainly not from me. Then I realise that it must have been from your mother and I wonder why it's only you who inherited her talent."  
  
"The others can play the piano."  
  
"Yes. But they only play the notes. You play the heart and soul of the music."  
  
"You sound like Bunny Bunsen. He said something similar when Scott and I went to see him."  
  
"Really. What was that?"  
  
Virgil thought a moment. "That the arts had the power to heal and calm the soul. And that I shouldn't forget that I had that gift."  
  
"He's right. I guess the old oddball makes sense sometimes."  
  
Virgil allowed himself the luxury of a small smile.  
  
Jeff stood and walked over so that he was standing beside Virgil. He looked out over the inky water and watched the starlight play on the waves. "Sometimes, when it's dark, I close my eyes and listen to you play a tune and it's as if your mother is there with me. I can almost feel her standing beside me. And I can feel how proud she is with what we've achieved with International Rescue, and how proud she is of you boys."  
  
Virgil ran his hand through his hair and closed his eyes at the thought.  
  
"I'm telling you all this because I'm trying to pluck up the courage to do something I should have done 23 years ago, something that I couldn't do because I was too caught up in my own grief. Something that, perhaps, could have saved you from this pain you're feeling now."  
  
"What's that?" Virgil asked quietly.  
  
"This." Jeff wrapped his arms around his son and held him close. "It wasn't your fault, Virgil." He reiterated.   
  
Initially Virgil tensed up at the unexpected contact. Then, as if he were unsure if it were the right thing to do, he slowly placed his own arms around his father.   
  
Jeff continued to hold him close. "I'm sorry Virgil. I should have realised what you were thinking when you were five years old. I should have told you it wasn't your fault then. I should have talked to you a year ago and told you that Scott didn't hate you. I should have told you that your mother didn't blame you." He felt his son's strong shoulders start to shake.  
  
Virgil began to cry.  
  
Jeff held him closer. "That's it. Let it go. Let it all out..."  
  
It was a release of 23 years of secrets hidden from the world...  
  
It was a release of years of pain, both physical and mental...  
  
It was a release of years of fear. Fears for his own safety and that of his brothers...  
  
It was a release of sadness at failed rescues and, partially, joy at successful ones...  
  
It was a release of the stresses of the past year...  
  
It was a release of fear of what tomorrow might bring...  
  
It was a release of a fear of death... and of dying.  
  
Jeff allowed his son to work it out of his system, a lump in his throat as he realised the extent of the emotion that Virgil had bottled up inside himself.  
  
"I still miss her." Virgil eventually gasped into Jeff's shoulder.  
  
"I know. We all do."  
  
Virgil straightened up and searched his pockets for a handkerchief. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't be!" Jeff said sternly.  
  
"But your shoulder's all wet!" Virgil blew his nose.  
  
Jeff plucked at the clammy material. "Don't worry about it. It's a small price to pay if it makes you feel better. You do feel better don't you?"  
  
Virgil looked at him with red eyes. "Yes I do. Thank you." Then horror took over his features. "You won't tell the others will you!"  
  
"No. I promise I won't mention this to anyone else. And I want you to promise me something, Virgil."  
  
"What's that?" Virgil was wiping his eyes.  
  
"You won't bottle anything up for another 23 years will you? Don't ever be afraid to talk to someone. If not me, then Grandma, or Scott, or anyone!"  
  
Virgil nodded. "Yes. I promise."  
  
"Good. Anything else you want to talk about? Any other secrets that should be out in the open?"  
  
Virgil shook his head. "No."  
  
"In that case, I'm going to get something to eat. Care to join me?"  
  
"No thanks." Virgil looked down at his grimy uniform. I think I'll have a wash and get changed and then I've got something I want to do. Then I guess I'll try and get a little sleep before I go with Alan to get John."  
  
"Don't worry about that. Gordon's volunteered to take your place."  
  
"Gordon!"  
  
"It's his way of saying thanks for helping him this afternoon."  
  
"It wasn't only me. It was a team effort."  
  
"I got the feeling that he wanted to make amends too."  
  
"But it wasn't his fault."  
  
"I know. But he does have the advantage of having had a couple of hours sleep already." Jeff looked at his watch. "You do realise that it's well after midnight."  
  
"Is it?" Virgil looked surprised.  
  
"Yes. So if you want to be awake when Scott comes out of the operation I'd advise you to get some sleep now."  
  
Virgil stifled a yawn. "Okay. I'll see you in the morning."  
  
"Good night son." Jeff started to walk towards the door.  
  
"Father!"  
  
Jeff stopped. "Yes Virgil?"  
  
"Thanks." Virgil gave him a hug of gratitude. Then he pulled back. "Yuck. That's shirt feels terrible. You'd better get out of it first."  
  
Jeff chuckled. "Good advice. Night Virgil."  
  
"Night." 


	40. Seventy One

Seventy One - BF  
  
Jeff changed into his pyjamas and robe and then headed for the kitchen. His mother had thoughtfully left two full plates out for the pair of them. He placed Virgil's portion into the fridge and then re-heated his own meal.  
  
That done he decided against eating alone at the dining table and thought it might be pleasant to sit out on the patio.  
  
He was surprised to see the silhouette of a man in the lounge.  
  
He turned the lights on.  
  
"Scott? I thought you'd gone to bed."  
  
Scott was sitting at the piano, his hands placed on the closed keyboard lid as if he were drawing strength from it. "I couldn't."  
  
"I was going to have my dinner on the patio. Care to join me?"  
  
Scott nodded and walked over to one of the chairs that faced out to sea. Jeff sat down in an adjacent seat but didn't start to eat. "So why couldn't you go to bed?"  
  
"I couldn't. Not while Virgil was mad at me."  
  
"I think you'll find he's not mad with you now." Jeff took a bite of a piece of potato while he waited to see if Scott was going to say anything else.  
  
He'd got through a third of his meal before Scott spoke again. "He was crying, wasn't he?"  
  
Jeff swallowed his mouthful. "How'd you know?"  
  
"You were in there for such a long time. I thought maybe with you there I could talk to him. So I went to his room. But I could hear him through the door so I came back out here."  
  
"He was crying. He still felt guilty over your mother's death. I thought our talk last year had got it out of his system."  
  
"And it hadn't?"  
  
"No. What you'd said to him, just reminded him that he'd believed it was his fault. He was also frightened that your mother may have blamed him."  
  
"Blamed him!" Scott was aghast. "She'd never do that!"  
  
"I know that, and you know that. But no one ever told a five-year-old Virgil that."  
  
"And a 28-year-old Virgil still believed it?"  
  
"Apparently." Jeff decided that he didn't want the rest of his meal and settled it on the table beside him. "I promised him that I wouldn't tell anyone what happened in there. So unless he says something don't mention it, okay."  
  
"Okay. I understand."  
  
They were silent a moment longer. Then Scott suddenly sprang to his feet. "How could I do it?" he asked. "How could I have said that to him?" He began pacing up and down the balcony. "He was helping me! And all I could do was say the most hateful thing I could think of to him. And despite that he said he didn't hate me." He stopped pacing for a moment. "Until tonight! I reinforced the idea that Ma had blamed him didn't I. How can I expect him to forgive me, if I can't forgive myself?" He started pacing again.  
  
"Is that why you haven't wanted to talk to him about this?"  
  
"All this is my fault! If I hadn't been so stupid and selfish and scared. He's right to be mad with me!"  
  
Jeff watched his son pace. The motion was starting to get to him. Scott would walk until he was almost at the stairs that fell away to the pool area, and then turn and proceed back the way he'd come. Jeff was alternating between anxiety that Scott would miscalculate his position and relief when he turned away.  
  
"You knew didn't you." Scott continued on. "Why didn't you tell me off? You must have known how I'd hurt him. I don't understand why you let me get away with it."  
  
"Virgil wouldn't let me." Jeff admitted. "I was ready to go out there and tear strips off you and let him come home again. But he said he was okay, and then that afternoon you both seemed fine together."  
  
"After I'd hit him."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Some big brother I am. Beating up my own brother and saying hateful things to him when he was only trying to help me."  
  
"Scott! Stop beating yourself up over this. It was a year ago. Virgil doesn't blame you. You can both discuss it later." Scott neared the steps again. "And will you sit down! You're starting to get on my nerves!"  
  
There was a noise in the lounge behind them. Gordon and Alan wandered in sleepily.   
  
"What are you two doing out there?" Alan asked bleary eyed.  
  
"Talking." Scott felt the hands on his watch. "Is that the time! Are you guys off to get John?"  
  
"That's the plan." Alan went and sat down on the sofa.  
  
Gordon remained standing, eyeing his father and oldest brother warily. "How's Virgil?"  
  
"He'll be fine." Jeff reassured him. "If he's got any brains he'll be getting some sleep at the moment."  
  
Gordon folded his arms. "Which it looks like neither of you two have done."  
  
Scott shrugged. "What does it matter? I'll be sleeping through it all anyway."  
  
"Go on boys." Jeff said. "The sooner you get to Thunderbird Five, the sooner you'll be home. And make sure you've activated the automatic relay correctly!"  
  
Alan gave him a mock salute. "Yes sir! Any other orders sir!"  
  
"Yes." Jeff chuckled. "Don't be insolent."   
  
The sofa slid into the floor just as Professor Bunsen came into the room. "Am I too late?"  
  
"Too late for what?" Scott asked.  
  
"Thunderbird Three's launch. I don't want to miss out on that."  
  
"You won't see much. It's night time." Jeff pointed out.  
  
"I still want to see it." The professor bounded onto the patio. "Where do I look?"  
  
"Through the Round House." Scott informed him.  
  
Jeff picked up his plate and wandered back to his desk. Alan's image appeared in place of his portrait. "Thunderbird Three. Are we clear to launch?"  
  
Jeff checked the computer. "All clear."  
  
"Thanks. See you soon." Alan disappeared.  
  
There was an exclamation of "Good law" from the Professor as Thunderbird Three forced it's way heavenward through the Round House.  
  
"You know. That's one guy I wish was sound asleep at the moment." Scott said quietly to his father.  
  
"I wouldn't worry. I don't think he'd do anything to jeopardise your operation." Jeff tried to console him, even though he'd been thinking along the same lines.  
  
Professor Bunsen had watched Thunderbird Three's rocket trail disappear into the stratosphere. "That was amazing." He said to the two Tracy men as he wandered back into the lounge. "I'm off back to bed. I'd advise the same for you Scott. You'll want to be wide awake in twelve hours time to see your family again." He disappeared in the direction of his bedroom.  
  
Scott and his father started moving in the same direction. Then Jeff remembered something. "Just a minute. I'd better take my plate back to the kitchen." He returned to his desk to retrieve it.  
  
They were surprised to hear the door from Thunderbird Two's maintenance hanger open. Scott's "Sonar Sender" told him who it was just before his hearing recognised the footsteps and his father said "Virgil? What are you doing up?"  
  
Scott decided to stay where he was. Hopefully out of sight.  
  
"I had to check on Thunderbird Two. You never know when she'll be needed next."  
  
"But Gordon's run the diagnostics programme and checked her over hasn't he?" Jeff asked.  
  
"I checked the maintenance log and he's done everything correctly. But her starboard wing got a bit scorched in the first explosion. Gordon didn't know about that, so I had to double check it wasn't damaged."  
  
"And that couldn't wait till tomorrow, ah, later today?" Jeff folded his arms and stared at Virgil with a frown of displeasure. "You know the rules about working at heights alone."  
  
"I had the safety harness on, and I'll have other things to worry about later." Virgil admitted. "And we never know when International Rescue is going to be needed. I had to know that Thunderbird Two would be ready. I couldn't sleep if there was any chance that she wasn't."  
  
"With the amount of sleep that everyone's getting tonight, if International Rescue is required we won't have any personnel capable of undertaking a rescue anyway. We'd have to send Grandma and Kyrano." Jeff grumbled. "So is Thunderbird Two ready?"  
  
"Yes. The wing just needs a bit of a clean and a lick of paint. In fact all of Thunderbird Two needs a proper clean down..."  
  
"Well that can wait. I'm not worried about Thunderbird Two's aesthetics. All that matters is that she's airworthy. And that you're in a fit state to pilot her. So go to bed Virgil!"  
  
Virgil noted the plate. "Just as soon as you do. You haven't been to bed tonight either!"  
  
Jeff realised that Scott was hiding and decided not to alert Virgil to the fact. "Come on then. Time we both turned in." He walked out the door, turning the light off as he did so.  
  
Scott waited until he'd heard their footsteps disappear before he followed them out of the lounge. 


	41. Seventy Two

Seventy Two - BF  
  
It was finally morning. Virgil was the last to arrive at the table and silently took his seat, rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he did so.  
  
Jeff Tracy looked round at his family. None of them looked as if they'd got any sleep the previous night, and Jeff doubted that he looked any better.  
  
In contrast Professor Bunsen was bright, breezy and extremely excited. He tucked into his mornings breakfast with gusto. The Tracy family and their friends were more circumspect.  
  
Alan pushed his still full plate away. "I can't eat. The suspense is killing me."  
  
"Killing you?" Scott noted. He wasn't eating this morning. "What about me?"  
  
"I can assure you that no one will be killed." The Professor said through a mouthful of toast. "By the end of the day Scott, your vision will be reinstated. And then, dear Robot Head," Brains cringed at the hated nickname, "you and I can get down to discussions as to what I can do to help your marvellous organisation."  
  
"Fine B-Bunny."  
  
"International Rescue." The Professor breathed. "When these two young men came to my door I would never have picked them to be members of International Rescue."  
  
"You understand why our secrecy is so important." Jeff said warily.  
  
"Of course, of course." Professor Bunsen waved his concerns away. "The technology in your hands is awesome. In someone else's it could be terrible. I could not be party to the ruination of innocent lives." He drained his glass and stood up. "Come on Scott. Time to act."  
  
"What already?" Scott squeaked.  
  
"Get it over and done with. Then you can reacquaint yourself with your family and friends. Come Tin-Tin. Come Robot Head." He swept out of the dining room.  
  
"I swear M-Mr Tracy." Brain muttered. "I-If it weren't for Scott, I would h-have walked out by now."  
  
"He is a bit annoying at times." Jeff agreed, "but he'll be good for the organisation. I'll set him up so that he can work from home."  
  
Professor Bunsen poked his head back into the room. "Robot Head!" he said imperiously.  
  
Muttering to himself Brains took his plate to the counter and left to get ready.  
  
Scott slowly stood up. "Well I guess this is it."  
  
Jeff came around and laid his hand on his first-born son's shoulder. "Good luck Scott. I..." He felt he should say something important but words failed him. Impulsively he wrapped his arms around Scott in a fatherly hug.   
  
Surprised Scott dropped his cane.  
  
Gordon picked it up and handed it to him. "Guess you won't be needing this too much longer."  
  
"I wouldn't need it now if you didn't leave your shoes around the house!" Scott refused the invitation to take the cane. "From this moment on I'm never going to use that thing again."  
  
"Positive thinking, huh." John said. "Imagine! It'll be all over in an hours time."  
  
"I'll have to get used to looking at your ugly mug again won't I."  
  
John chuckled.  
  
"See you soon Scott." Alan said optimistically.  
  
"I hope to be seeing you, Alan." Scott turned slowly to where he knew Virgil was standing. "Well Virg." he said with false bravado. "Time to see what your machine can do." He held out his hand to his brother. "Wish me luck?" he asked hopefully.  
  
Virgil looked at the outstretched hand and then took it slowly.   
  
They shook solemnly.  
  
It was no good. "Come here." Virgil said suddenly and pulled Scott into a bear hug. "Good luck." He whispered. "I've got a surprise for you when it's over." He released his oldest brother and stood back.  
  
Jeff placed his arm around Virgil's shoulders and gave him a squeeze.  
  
Scott received a solemn handshake from Kyrano and a nervous kiss, with a "Good luck Darling" from his Grandmother before the Professor stuck his head into the room again. "Scott!"   
  
He disappeared.  
  
"His lordship calls!" Scott said ironically. "Wish me luck everyone." He started walking towards the door before turning back. "Please tell me he hasn't got the rabbit suit on..."  
  
"Of course not!" Gordon told him. "He's a professional. Only don't be surprised if you wake up covered in feathers."  
  
"Feathers?"  
  
"From the chicken suit."  
  
"Gordon, behave!" Jeff scolded.  
  
"I'm glad you talked him out of the pig outfit."  
  
"Alan!" Jeff rumbled warningly.  
  
"You know..." Scott said. "I would have been quite happy to be an only child."  
  
There was a shout from down the hallway. "Scott!"  
  
"I'd better go. Be seeing you... I hope."  
  
***  
  
The procedure was going to take 30 minutes per eye. That hour seemed to drag on forever to everyone waiting in the lounge.  
  
Jeff turned the TV on to give everyone something to think about.   
  
No one watched it.  
  
The stress was getting to Virgil. He would go to the doorway leading to the hall and look towards the sickbay. Then he'd walk back to the piano, sit down and open the lid. Then, without playing anything, he'd close it with a bang and move out onto the balcony. He could only stand there for half a minute before he was back at the hallway again.  
  
It was on his twelfth circuit of the room that Jeff intercepted him. Placing both hands on Virgil's shoulders he looked him straight in the eye and said, quietly but with emphasis. "Virgil - will - you - calm - down."  
  
"But Father. I'm worried about the equipment. What if I didn't fix something correctly? Something could go wrong."  
  
"Nothing will go wrong with the equipment. Both you and Brains checked and double checked each other's work. The machine's perfect." Jeff adjusted his grip so that his hands now held Virgil's shoulders from behind enabling him to steer his worried son to the piano. "Now sit there and stay there." Virgil went to open the keyboard. "And leave it shut!" Jeff snapped, expressing some of the strain he was feeling.   
  
He turned to return to his customary seat at his desk when he heard a sound behind him. He wasn't surprised to find Virgil standing again. "Virgil! Sit before I tie you to that stool!"  
  
"Tell you what Dad." Gordon offered. "Hold him down on the floor and I'll sit on him."  
  
"I'll help." Alan said.  
  
"Me too." John added.  
  
"Leave room for me!" Grandma Tracy stated, surprising everyone.  
  
Virgil put his elbows on the closed lid of the keyboard and rested his head in his hands.  
  
Someone entered the room.   
  
"We've finished." Tin-Tin said.  
  
She was nearly bowled over by Virgil as he raced out the door.  
  
She had to step backwards just as quickly to avoid being crushed by a mass of anxious Tracys all heading for the sickbay.  
  
Scott was on the bed, asleep.  
  
Brains was looking at some charts.  
  
The Professor stood at the head of the bed with his arms folded proudly. "It was good. I'm very pleased."  
  
Virgil sat in the seat to Scott's left. Brains came over and laid his hand on Virgil's shoulder. "Th-The equipment worked perfectly." He reassured him. Virgil gave him a smile of relief.  
  
"Scott can you hear me son?" Jeff asked  
  
"Come on Scott. Wake up." Alan pleaded.  
  
"Yeah, wake up Scott." John said.  
  
"Come on Scott." Grandma and Gordon said in unison.  
  
"Wake up." Virgil placed a hand on Scott's arm. "Come on Scott. Wake up!"  
  
Scott began to awaken... 


	42. Seventy Three

Seventy Three - BF  
  
"How long do I have to keep the eye pads on now?" Scott asked again as he tucked hungrily into some breakfast.  
  
"I'll see how your eyes look in five hours. Then, all going well, we'll let in the light." Professor Bunsen declared.  
  
"I feel like a kid waiting for Christmas morning, again."  
  
"How do they feel?" Jeff asked.  
  
"Fine." Scott admitted. "A little dry maybe, but otherwise fine. There's no pain."  
  
"If they are feeling dry we'd better lubricate them." Professor Bunsen said.  
  
"Hey!" Scott found himself dragged out of his chair and away from his food.  
  
"Don't forget to check his oil and water while you're at it." Gordon cheekily called after them.  
  
***  
  
"They look excellent." Professor Bunsen stated. "Have a look, Robot Head, and see what you think."  
  
Brains peered through the ophthalmoscope. This adaptation was one of Professor Bunsen's inventions and allowed the user to examine a retina without the presence of any light. "V-Very pretty." He said. "Th-there's no scar tissue at all th-that I can see."  
  
"Can't we turn on the light just a little bit?" Scott pleaded. "Just to see."  
  
"No." Professor Bunsen said.  
  
"How about a torch behind me, directed away from me?" Scott tried again hopefully.  
  
"No."  
  
"A candle?"  
  
"No."  
  
"A firefly in a blackened jar in a paper bag?"   
  
"Be patient, Scott. We can't rush these things."  
  
"One year without sight is hardly rushing it."  
  
"If you've lasted a year, you can last a few hours more."  
  
"In that case can I go? I've got a few things I've got to take care of."  
  
"L-Like finishing breakfast?" Brains asked with amusement in his voice.  
  
"That's top priority!"  
  
***  
  
Second priority was to find Virgil. Unsurprisingly he was attending to Thunderbird Two's starboard wing.  
  
"Look out, here's the Lone Ranger." Alan called up from his vantage point under the wing.  
  
Virgil peered over the vertiginous drop. "Hi Scott. How's it going?"  
  
"Slowly." Scott said sourly as he rubbed at an eye pad. "I can't remember a longer six hours. How're you going up there?"  
  
"Slowly." Virgil replied. "She's airworthy, but we should replace at least one of the panels. It'll take me most of the morning."  
  
Scott was disappointed. He'd hoped to find time this morning to have that talk with Virgil. "Anything I can do to help?"  
  
"No. Alan and I can take care of it."  
  
"You can take over Virgil's job this afternoon." Alan said brightly. "You'll have to start pulling your weight around here again."  
  
"Pulling my weight...! Watch it kiddo. I might not be able to see you at the moment, but that doesn't mean I can't take you down."  
  
"You and whose army?"  
  
Scott managed to snare Alan in a headlock. "Just me."  
  
"Guys..."  
  
"Hark! I hear a voice from on high." Alan released Scott's arm from around his neck. "What's up, Virg?"  
  
"Me at the moment, and I'd love a drink of water. Can someone oblige?"  
  
"You keep watch on him." Scott said. "I'll get it."  
  
***   
  
Grandma Tracy was arranging flowers in the lounge. She set the blooms in a vase and then looked at them critically. Unsatisfied she removed them and started again, trimming the stems first. Still unhappy with her work she tried a different arrangement. Then she decided that a different vase might look better.   
  
It didn't.   
  
Once again she shortened the stems and tackled the task again.   
  
Maybe it was the position of the vase? She moved it to another part of the room.  
  
No, it was definitely the arrangement. She trimmed the stems a third time before deciding that the first vase was the best choice.   
  
By now the stems were too short.  
  
She sighed.  
  
"Mother, will you relax! It won't be long now."  
  
"How can you be so calm Jeff?"  
  
"Years of practise of worrying about those boys, Mother."  
  
"But this is different, isn't it."  
  
"Yes it is. And do you know how many reports I've read this morning? And how many I've written? And how many times I've signed something?"  
  
She shook her head. "Knowing you it must be at least fifty."  
  
"None." He stated. "I've read one report and have read the same paragraph at least twenty times and I still couldn't tell you what it's about. I've started writing and lost my train of thought. It's a document of complete gibberish. And I've signed one thing." He held up a paper napkin. His signature was scrawled across the centre. "I don't think that's going to win Tracy Industries the Carlton contract. I'm not calm. I'm just better at hiding it than you."  
  
"It will be all right, won't it Jeff."  
  
"Professor Bunsen seems confident."  
  
"Do you trust him?"  
  
"Scott and Virgil do..."  
  
"But do you?"  
  
"Brains doesn't have any doubts."  
  
"Jeff." She said in exasperation.  
  
He grinned. "Believe it or not, I do. Sure he's odd..."  
  
"Try downright strange."  
  
"... but I've looked over some of his past achievements and they've all been successes."  
  
"And he likes Virgil's music. So he can't be all bad." She said reflectively.  
  
"That's another reason why I'm willing to trust him. The boy needs someone outside of the family group to tell him his music's important."  
  
His mother looked at him with open curiosity, but he didn't enlighten her, instead standing up with a yawn. "I'm going to get myself a coffee or else I'll never make it through the day. Would you like one?"  
  
"Yes please." She watched him depart the room with a frown of concern on her face. 


	43. Seventy Four

Seventy Four - BF  
  
Scott had spent much of the morning trying to remember how things had looked the last time he'd seen them. Some things had been easy, such as his family's faces, but others, like the pattern of the wallpaper in the hallway had been just on impossible.  
  
It was time to see how good his memory had been.  
  
The lights were turned down low.  
  
"Now Scott..." Professor Bunsen said, "... I'll take the pads off your eyes. Then, when you are ready, you can open them. Then we'll slowly increase the light levels..."  
  
"I have done this before." Scott interrupted impatiently.  
  
The Professor sat back and folded his arms. "And we are going to do this properly this time. And that includes ensuring that you understand fully what's going to happen. Now... Are you listening?"  
  
"Yes." Scott said with a hint of frustration in his voice.  
  
"Good." Professor Bunsen started his recitation again. That finished he shifted forward in his chair again. "Are you ready?"  
  
Scott bit back a sarcastic reply. "Yes."  
  
"Right. We'll lower the light levels more."  
  
The room was totally dark. The Professor donned a pair of night vision goggles. "Robot Head! These are amazing." He looked around the room. "Why I can see almost as clearly as if it were daylight. I can even read the writing on those canisters in the cupboards. Sodium Ni..."  
  
"Hello! Remember me? The patient?" Scott asked. "I'd like to see the cupboards too. Can we get on with this?"  
  
"Of course!" Scott felt the eye pads be gently removed. For all the Professors idiosyncrasies, he couldn't fault the man's care. "Open your eyes when you are ready."  
  
"They're open." Scott informed him.  
  
"I can see that. Robot Head, you must make me a pair of these goggles!"  
  
Jeff heard Scott sigh in exasperation and squeezed him reassuringly on the shoulder.  
  
"Let there be light!" Professor Bunsen said grandly and threw a switch.  
  
There was a whirring sound.  
  
"Uh, Bunny... I-I think you've just turned on the extractor fan." Brains informed him.  
  
"Oops." The Professor gave a little giggle. "So I have." The fan went silent. Another switch was toggled on.  
  
"Give me strength." Scott muttered under his breath, and felt his father squeeze his shoulder again.  
  
Scott remembered the last time he'd been in this situation, sitting in a darkened room with his family surrounding him, waiting for some sign that all would be well. Last time had been a bitter disappointment. In fact it had been worse than that. What would this time bring?  
  
He blinked. Was his imagination running away with him or was he seeing some light?  
  
He held his breath.  
  
Jeff heard the inhalation. "Scott?" he said in concern.  
  
"I-I think I can see some light!"  
  
"You think!" Alan exclaimed. "Can't you be more specific than that?"  
  
"No... Yes! Yes I can definitely see light!"  
  
"Is it getting brighter?" Professor Bunsen asked.  
  
"Yes! I can't see anything specifically, but I'm definitely starting to see blocks of colour."  
  
"Don't forget that it's highly unlikely that you'll be able to see clearly." The Professor reminded him. "Don't get your hopes up too much. Your body's got to readjust to being sighted again. I doubt that you'll be able to focus on much initially." He sat back.  
  
"You moved! I saw you move!" Scott said excitedly. "I can see movement! Gordon, stop waving your hand in front of my face."  
  
"How'd you know it was me?"  
  
"I could smell chlorine. You've been for a swim."  
  
"Scott..." Jeff squatted down so that he was eye level with his son.  
  
Scott turned to look at him and his already broad smile broadened some more. "Hi Father. You look great!"  
  
"You can see me?"  
  
"Not really. I can make out your shape, though you tend to merge into the background until you move."  
  
Jeff had a smile of his own. "How do your eyes feel?"  
  
"Slightly gritty, but otherwise not bad." Scott stood and turned so that he was facing everyone else. "Where's the rest of my family! I want to see you all. It's been too long."  
  
They were all grinning. The room had an air of constrained exhilaration as if each person wanted to yell and cheer, but didn't want to be the one to make the initial move.  
  
They all watched Scott's eyes, which, although they were bloodshot, for the first time in a long time, looked normal. Instead of staring sightlessly ahead, they were darting about, trying to take in as much information as they could.  
  
"This is brilliant!" Alan exclaimed.  
  
"Brains!" Scott had a thought.  
  
"Y-Yes, Scott."  
  
"Can I borrow your glasses for a moment. Maybe they'll help."  
  
"Of course." Brains removed his spectacles and handed them over.  
  
"I could fix your eyesight, Robot Head." Professor Bunsen told him.  
  
"I-I know you could, Bunny." Brains sighed.  
  
Scott donned the bright blue spectacles and looked around. "Hey, that's much better. I never realised your eyesight was so bad, Brains. Maybe you should let Professor Bunsen look at you."  
  
He received a murderous, shortsighted look from the little scientist.  
  
"So how do we look, Scott?" John asked.  
  
"Gee you guys have aged. You all look so old!"  
  
"Thank you, Scott." His grandmother said grumpily.  
  
"All except you Grandma." He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "You look as beautiful as you ever did. The same goes for Tin-Tin."  
  
The pretty Malaysian gave a giggle. "Thank you, Scott."  
  
Scott spied her father. "You were right, Kyrano. You've all hardly changed." He sighed. "I guess I'd better give these back to you, Brains."  
  
"I have a spare p-pair you are welcome to borrow. I'll go get them now."  
  
"Thanks. I always liked blue." Before removing the spectacles, Scott took another look at his family. Then his smile faded. "Where's Virgil?"  
  
"Huh. He was here beside me a moment ago." John looked behind him. "Where'd he go to?"  
  
Scott glanced over at his father and then returned the glasses to their owner. "I'll go find him."  
  
***  
  
The first place Scott headed to was the lounge. As expected Virgil was seated at the piano, keyboard closed.  
  
Scott wandered over to him. "Boy! Are you a sight for sore eyes." He said cheerfully.  
  
Virgil looked away. "Really?" he said quietly.  
  
"Brains is going to lend me a spare pair of specs. I'll be able to see much better then."  
  
"That's nice."  
  
"It's great to see everyone again."  
  
"We're all pleased for you." Virgil was still quiet.  
  
"You left quickly."  
  
"It was a bit crowded."  
  
"You know yesterday, when I said I wanted you to tell me about the machine..."  
  
"I'm sorry. We never did get that talk did we."  
  
"It wasn't that that I wanted to talk about. Brains had already explained it pretty well."  
  
"I thought it was a bit odd. You've never had any problems with Brains' explanations in the past." Virgil was concentrating on the keyboard lid.  
  
Scott frowned and put a hand to his head.  
  
Virgil saw the movement out of the corner of his eye. "Are you alright?" He asked, a sudden expression of concern on his face.  
  
"I've got a bit of a headache." Scott admitted. "I guess the light's a bit bright."  
  
"Hang on. I'll shut the blinds." Virgil did so. "Is that better?"  
  
"Not really."  
  
"Do you want to continue this later."  
  
"No, this has waited too long." Then Scott took a breath. "On second thoughts, this is a killer. Maybe we'd better leave it."  
  
Virgil's concern grew. "Why don't you go lie down?"  
  
"Yeah. I think I might." Scott took a step and stopped. "Uh. Can you give me a hand?"  
  
"Come on. Then I'll get the Professor to have a look at you."  
  
They started off. Virgil had every intention of assisting Scott to his room, but changed his mind as his brother's steps became slower and more leaden. He raised his arm and spoke into his watch. "Virgil to Professor Bunsen."  
  
"Yes! A call for me!" In the hospital the Professor looked at his watch eagerly. He'd been hoping he'd get a genuine call so that he could try his new toy out. He adopted a serious tone. "Go ahead Virgil."   
  
Virgil's worried face appeared in place of the dial. "Where are you?"  
  
"In the hospital."  
  
"Good I'm bringing Scott there now. He's got a bad headache. Can you send someone out with a wheelchair..." Scott went boneless and sagged, nearly slipping out of Virgil's grasp, "... uh, you'd better make that a stretcher."  
  
Also in the hospital, Brains and Jeff looked at each other, grabbed a gurney and raced for the door.  
  
Virgil assisted Scott to the floor. "How do you feel?" he asked as he gently laid him down.  
  
Scott kept his eyes tightly closed. "As if Thunderbird Three's trying to blast through the top of my head... and Thunderbird's One and Two are trying to launch themselves out my ears." He grimaced against the pain.  
  
"Okay. Just hang in there, we'll get you some help." Virgil said quietly.  
  
"Not so loud." Scott groaned.  
  
The gurney banged against the wall.  
  
"Shhh." Virgil said urgently as Scott flinched.  
  
The gurney was brought up beside the prone man. "What happened?" Jeff asked as they eased Scott on board.  
  
"Tell you in a moment." Virgil said quickly, conscious that every sound was causing pain to his brother.  
  
His other brothers entered the hallway. "What's going on?!" John asked in alarm.  
  
Alan heard a gasp from behind them. He turned and put an arm around his Grandma. "He's okay..." he reassured her.  
  
"But..."  
  
In the hospital Professor Bunsen was all business. "What happened?"  
  
Virgil pulled him into the hall so that he could restrict the level of noise in the infirmary. He then explained what had happened.  
  
"Interesting..." The professor said and without further comment returned to the infirmary. "Right! Everyone out!"  
  
Scott let out a moan of pain at the sounds.  
  
"But..." Brains began to protest.  
  
"That includes you Robot Head." Brains was pushed out the door. "Mr Tracy..." Bunny Bunsen turned to the family's patriarch.  
  
Jeff was standing there immobile, his arms crossed, a severe frown on his face. "This is my son we're talking about. I'm not leaving."  
  
"Oh, very well." The professor said irritably and began his examination.  
  
***  
  
Brains found the rest of the family in an adjacent room. It was the one that now housed the machine that he and Virgil had worked so carefully on. Virgil was scowling at it as if it were the cause of all their problems.  
  
"What do you think, Brains?" Virgil asked tightly. "Do we run more tests, or do we reverse engineer it to see if we'd made a mistake?"  
  
Brains took a seat and looked at the machine more speculatively. "The m-machine worked, Virgil." He said quietly.  
  
"I know that. But look what's happened!"  
  
"What has happened?" Gordon asked worriedly. "He seemed fine!"  
  
"I-I think that we should not be worried."  
  
"Not worried!" John exclaimed. "You saw him Brains. He was in agony!"  
  
"I-I think what has happened is p-possibly perfectly natural."  
  
"Natural!" Alan exclaimed. "That's not natural!"  
  
"You didn't see how quickly he deteriorated. One minute he was talking to me, the next he's flat out on the floor!" Virgil snapped in frustration. "How can that be natural?"  
  
"H-He has been without sight for a year." Brains explained patiently. "His brain will have 'rewired' itself to take that into account. Suddenly it's e-experiencing 'new' sensations. I-I believe that what Scott is experiencing is his brain trying to make s-sense of this new information. I-In time it will pass."  
  
"How long Brains?" Mrs Tracy asked.  
  
"I-I don't know. It is only an h-hypothesis."  
  
Virgil leant back against the wall and ran his hand through his hair. "I sure hope you're right..."  
  
He was interrupted by his father entering the room. Jeff gave a reassuring smile. "Professor Bunsen thinks he's going to be all right. It just his..." he screwed up his face as he tried to remember, "...his synapse's linking up the ophthmallum with the cerebellum after a period of inactivity. At least I think that's what he said. I'm an astronaut, not a medical man. The words are probably wrong."   
  
They looked to Brains for clarification.  
  
"I-It's just what I said." He explained smugly.  
  
John smiled. "Boy am I glad you're here Brains. I need a translator with that guy."  
  
"So how long does the nutty Professor say it'll be before he's back to normal?" Alan asked.  
  
"He'll keep Scott under light sedation for 24 hours and then he thinks it'll be a couple of months before his vision will be as it was before the accident." Jeff said.  
  
"So, I guess the party's off for tonight then." Gordon noted.  
  
"Afraid so." 


	44. Seventy Five

Seventy Five - BF  
  
After 24 hours Scott was feeling fine. He was up and about and exploring a whole new world of light and colour and movement.  
  
The only dark spot was that Virgil seemed to be avoiding him.  
  
"I don't know..." Scott complained to his father, "... every time I try to talk to him someone else turns up, or he says he has something to do, or else he makes sure he's somewhere where I can't see him because the light's hurting my eyes. I know we've got to talk, but it's impossible when he doesn't want to be anywhere near me."  
  
"I don't think it's that he doesn't want to be near you." Jeff surmised. "I think he's taken your words of a year ago literally."  
  
"That I was glad that I couldn't see him?"  
  
"And he's doing all he can to save you from the... strain... of looking at him."  
  
"The idiot. I thought he knew I didn't mean what I said."  
  
"I did too, but he's clearly taken it to heart."  
  
"I was going to talk to him before the operation, but then we went on that rescue, and then we came back..." Scott shuddered at the memory. "And I haven't spoken to him properly since. And it's been a week! It's as if we're neighbours, not brothers. Just passing in the hallways, saying hello, but not really stopping to talk to each other. I hate this!"  
  
Jeff had noticed that Virgil had been very quiet this past week too. "I don't think he's happy either."  
  
"Could you talk to him first? Smooth the way?"  
  
"I thought I'd done that the other night. What say I arrange it that you'll get some uninterrupted time together."  
  
"It'd be a start."  
  
"Then you've got the hard job. Finding the words to say."  
  
"Not my strong point." Scott said wryly. "I'm a man of action not words. I wonder if I could convince John to do this for me."  
  
Jeff gave a quiet chuckle. "I don't think it would have the same impact coming from him. No, you'll be fine. You just need the right situation..."  
  
***  
  
The right situation involved every member of the family being involved in an International Rescue training session.   
  
"Where's Scott and Virgil?" Alan asked.  
  
"They're not always going to be available." Jeff explained. "It won't hurt you to get in some practise without them."  
  
"What do I do, Jeff." Grandma Tracy asked.  
  
"You play a little old lady trapped in the Round House."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"There's been an earthquake and the only exits have collapsed."  
  
"So all I have to do is stand at the window and scream 'Help'."  
  
"You've got it."  
  
"A starring role, Grandma!" Gordon grinned. "We'll get you out on rescues yet."  
  
"Yeah. I can just see you tearing up to the burning building on the hoverbike, and yelling 'Virgil Tracy! Get away from there! You'll get your uniform dirty!'" Alan laughed at his unsubtle imitation of his Grandmothers voice.  
  
"Come on." Jeff said. "Let's get started. Tin-Tin, you can man Mobile Control and Kyrano and Brains can be other victims."  
  
His mother stared at him, hands on hips. "And just what are you going to do Jeff Tracy?"  
  
"Me? I'm the one who'll feed John and Mobile Control all the information about the rescue as if I'm the fire chief or local rescue co-ordinator. Are you with me John?"  
  
"I can hear you." His second son replied via a hand held radio. "Ready and waiting to dispatch the gallant forces of International Rescue out to save the damsel in distress..."  
  
"All right. We've got the idea. I'm also the Marshall on this exercise. So I'll take notes on everyone's performance." Jeff declared.  
  
"See how he's always willing to take on the hard, dangerous jobs." Gordon said in a stage whisper to Alan. "Fearless, that's what our father is."  
  
Jeff didn't rise to the bait. "So are you if you're going to start teasing your old man. Right! Lets get started..."  
  
***  
  
Scott had worked out a plan of his own. He knew Virgil was planning to use some of the unexpected spare time to get in some piano practise and hoped that he would take the path past Scott's bedroom door.  
  
Scott listened until he heard his brother's familiar humming, then, leaving the door to the room open, he started pulling at the furniture in his room.  
  
He heard Virgil stop humming as he drew close to the door.  
  
"Hey, Virgil! Give me a hand will you?"  
  
"Doing what?" Virgil asked warily from the hallway.  
  
"I've lost my wings. I threw them somewhere ages ago and now I can't find them. It's a shame I've 'outgrown' Brains' specs. I need your eyes."  
  
"You threw them!"  
  
"Yeah, I know. It sounds silly now. It was my first day home and I guess I was a little upset."  
  
Virgil took a step into the room. "So where'd you throw them?"  
  
"Um..." Scott sat on the bed where he'd sat a year ago. "I just threw them. They must be behind one of those chests of drawers. Help me find them please?" He pleaded. "My eyesight's not good enough yet."   
  
"Okay." Virgil took another step into the room. He didn't notice the door slide quietly shut behind him or hear the lock slide home. "So they could be behind this cabinet." He tried peering behind the large piece of furniture. "When was the last time you cleaned back here!"  
  
Scott felt as if he'd engineered a kidnapping. He tried to sound relaxed. "I couldn't see the dirt, so I didn't worry. Can you see them?"  
  
"No. Can we pull it out from the wall?"  
  
They each took a corner and pulled. The cabinet moved a little. Virgil peered behind. "I think I can see them. We need to pull this out further."  
  
"Lets get rid of the drawers, that'll make it lighter."  
  
It was then a relatively easy job to pull the chest of drawers away from the wall. Virgil managed to reach behind and retrieve the wings. "There you go. A little dirty, but otherwise unhurt." He wiped the cobwebs off and then started to pin the badge to Scott's collar. "Back where they belong," he smiled.   
  
He stopped when he realised that he was face to face with his brother. "I'm sorry... I'll leave now!" He turned and found the door shut. He tried to open it. "Scott!"  
  
Scott's own smile at being reacquainted with his wings, fell from his face. "Don't go! Let's talk."  
  
"Don't go!? You've locked the door! Was this some kind of trick?" Virgil asked angrily.  
  
"No! Everything I said was true. I'd lost my wings. I'm truly grateful that you've found them for me," Scott removed the treasured item from his lapel and clutched them tightly to his chest. "But I think we need to sit down and talk."   
  
"I'm busy!"  
  
"Please Virgil! Talk to me!"  
  
"About what!"  
  
"About us! You've been avoiding me!"  
  
Virgil moved over to the window and stood with his back to it. "Okay, talk!"  
  
"Please sit down."  
  
"I'm comfortable here."  
  
"But I'm not. I can't see you properly when you're backlit like that." Scott grabbed his brother by the arm and dragged him over to the chair that was well away from the window. "Sit there where I can see you."  
  
Virgil sat down and stared at the floor.  
  
"Look at me." Scott pleaded.  
  
"Do you really want me to?" Virgil asked quietly.  
  
"Yes I do. I want to see you. I've wanted to see you for the past year. I know that's not what I said, but it's the truth."  
  
Virgil was silent.  
  
"I was angry that day in rehabilitation. Nothing was going right. I was helpless. I was out of control. The only thing that I KNEW I could do confidently was to hurt the people around me. I thought of the one thing that I knew would hurt you and I said it! And I'm really, really sorry. "  
  
Virgil looked at his hands.  
  
"Believe me Virgil," Scott begged, "I didn't mean it! If it had have been Father, or John, or Gordon, or Alan, I still would have tried to find something hateful to say to them. Unfortunately I picked on you."  
  
The ominous silence continued.  
  
"You've been a help to me over this last year. You've supported me, and cajoled me, and threatened me, and made me realise that my life wasn't over just because I was blind. If it hadn't been for you I'd probably be sitting in here all day weaving baskets or something."  
  
Virgil didn't comment.  
  
"I've never believed that Ma's accident was your fault. I've never believed that Ma would have blamed you... that was something I dredged up from the sewer of my mind."   
  
Scott was starting to feel a mild form of panic. He was desperate to break through the wall that Virgil had erected between the pair of them. "And I don't think of Ma every time I look at you. You're an individual Virgil, and when I see you I don't see Lucille Tracy, my mother, I see Virgil Tracy... I see my brother... I see my hero..."  
  
The familiar klaxon went off.   
  
"Oh NO!" Scott exclaimed angrily. "Not now! Somebody up there hates me!"  
  
Virgil stood. "We'd better go." He said quietly.  
  
Scott carefully placed his wings on the bedside table and unlocked the door. "Virgil... please... this isn't finished, let's talk some more later. You haven't heard everything that I want to say to you..."  
  
*** 


	45. Seventy Six

Seventy Six - BF  
  
International Rescue's other operatives were already in the lounge when Scott and Virgil arrived. They'd been alerted when John's attention had wavered from the exercise to genuine radio messages. Reluctantly Jeff had halted the training session.  
  
He looked with sympathy at Scott, whose face was showing bitter disappointment.  
  
Virgil's face was unemotional.  
  
Jeff turned his attention back to John's portrait. "What information do you have for us, son?"  
  
"It's an oil refinery." John said slowly, listening to the reports at the same time. The name of the company is..." his face sagged in disbelief. "Regnad Oil."  
  
"I knew today was jinxed." Scott muttered.  
  
"Is it a related company?" Tin-Tin asked.  
  
Jeff was scrolling through the business who's who on his computer. He nodded. "Regnad Oil. Parent company Regnad Corporation..."  
  
"And about 20 kilometres away from the 'top secret, highly experimental laboratory'." John informed them.  
  
Jeff looked at him and then back at his team. "Do you want to go?"  
  
"You've never asked us that before." Gordon said surprised.  
  
"I've never needed to. I'm happy to leave this one to each of your own discretions."  
  
"I'm going." Virgil announced. "There's still people who may die there."  
  
Alan headed over to Thunderbird One's lamps. "I'll see you there, Virgil."  
  
"You'll need help." Gordon moved towards the passenger lift.  
  
"Can I go too?" Scott asked.  
  
"I don't know, Scott" Jeff said reluctantly.  
  
"I'm not asking to pilot Thunderbird One." Scott insisted. "Alan can still fly me out there and I can still man Mobile Control. From what John was saying we're going to need every available man to fight this fire. Once this is over I can drop in on Professor Bunsen for my check up. It'll save him coming here and annoying Brains."  
  
"All right." Jeff said, still reluctant. "But the first sign of trouble..."  
  
"I promise that on the first sign of trouble I'll get John to take over."  
  
"Go on then."   
  
"Great." Scott had his back to the wall and was spinning out of sight. "See yo..."  
  
***  
  
The fire at the refinery was not as bad as they'd first feared, Scott was happy to report back. He could almost feel the strain fall away from his father. "Oh by the way. I've met an old friend..."  
  
"Who?" Jeff said warily.  
  
"Doctor Hughes." Scott said with a grin. "You should've seen his face!"  
  
***  
  
Doctor Hughes had almost been embarrassed about approaching Mobile Control. "It seems we're working together again." He'd said shyly.  
  
Scott had recognised his voice. "Actually I'm quite glad to meet you again..." he pulled his protective sunglasses down to the end of his nose and looked over them, "...and to see you."  
  
Doctor Hughes started and then a smile crept onto his face. "You... you saw... The Professor."  
  
Scott nodded as he pushed the sunglasses back onto the bridge of his nose. "The man's a miracle worker! And completely mad! Only don't tell him I said so. Don't tell anyone!"  
  
Doctor Hughes was nodding vigorously. "I understand completely. Secrecy is most important." He winked at Scott. "But I am pleased that, in some small way, I was able to repay International Rescue for all they've done."  
  
"Not as pleased as I am, I can assure you." Scott had turned his attention back to Mobile Control.  
  
***  
  
Now, barely three hours later, they were entering the final stages of the rescue... helping the local services extinguish the fire. The only two people who'd been trapped had been rescued successfully and had been taken to hospital as a precautionary measure.  
  
Scott felt pleased with the way things had progressed, and the way he'd been able to use both the conventional and modified aspects of Mobile Control to his advantage. He decided that it would be a good idea to retain this particular model. It wouldn't hurt his brothers and Tin-Tin to learn how to use the improvements either.  
  
" 'Firefly' to Mobile Control" Alan's voice called out to him via the speakers.  
  
"Mobile Control. Go ahead, Alan."  
  
"Fire in sector three is out. Do you need me anywhere else?"  
  
"No. Everything's under control. You can stow 'Firefly' away now."  
  
"F-A-B."  
  
His youngest brother's voice was replaced by that of his oldest sibling. "Thunderbird Five to Mobile Control."  
  
"Mobile Control. Go ahead, John."  
  
"How's things looking?"  
  
"Great! I can see the fire and the smoke and the buildings and..."  
  
"That's not what I meant and you know it." John reprimanded him gently. "Things must be winding down if you're not taking this seriously."  
  
"I've just given Alan the go-ahead to put the 'Firefly' back into the pod. Gordon's packing up a few things and Virgil's heading my way as we speak."  
  
"You can see him?"  
  
"I can see his yellow sash."  
  
"Ah. How long before you think you'll be leaving."  
  
"Maybe half an hour? It'll depend on whether there's any flare ups, though I'd say any thing that could happen now, should be able to be handled adequately by the locals."  
  
"Okay. I'll let base know. Give me a call if there's any change to your E.T.D."  
  
"F-A-B."  
  
Scott's good mood disappeared when Virgil came and stood so that Mobile Control largely hid him.   
  
He tried to regain it. "Well another rescue successfully completed!" he said with forced gaiety.  
  
"Scott." Virgil said seriously. "Do you think there's any chance we could get Gordon to travel in Thunderbird One?"  
  
"Why?" Scott asked astonished at this request.  
  
"Then, um, maybe, you'd like to fly with me in Thunderbird Two? You haven't flown in her for a while, and it wouldn't hurt for you to refresh yourself on the controls, and once you've got Thunderbird One back we're never going to be able to get you out of the pilots seat, and it could be your last chance for a while, and it wouldn't hurt for Gordon to have a refresher on Thunderbird One's controls, and we're all pretty fresh at the moment since it's been such a short rescue..." he took a breath, swallowed... "And..."  
  
A warning alarm sounded on Mobile Control.  
  
They looked at the flashing light and then back over at one of the refinery's smaller containment facilities. Local rescue services were running for their lives from the flames that licked around the base of the cylindrical structure.  
  
"Gordon! Get out of there!" Scott yelled at his brother who was already moving with speed away from the impending crisis. He slammed down the button that activated Mobile Control's hover units.  
  
Virgil pushed on one side of the bulky unit and Scott the other as they fought to get it away from the danger zone.  
  
Alan had seen what they were doing and ran to help them...  
  
Gordon dropped the load he was carrying and turned to assist also...  
  
Virgil looked at Scott...  
  
Scott looked at Virgil...  
  
"Run!" They both yelled...  
  
***  
  
The explosion was loud and violent. Everyone within 200 metres was knocked to the ground by the blast of searing air.  
  
As the noise subsided, and the dust settled, people starting moving gingerly. Checking themselves for injuries.  
  
Those closest to the explosion cleared the dust from their eyes and looked around them, ears ringing from the blast.  
  
Three members of International Rescue stood and surveyed the damage...  
  
Three members of International Rescue looked to check that his brothers were okay...  
  
Three members of International Rescue ran towards one member of International Rescue who lay unmoving... 


	46. Seventy Seven

Seventy Seven - BF  
  
He lay there. Whatever possessed him to try to have a nap beside 'The Mole'? It had to be one of the nosiest machines in International Rescue's auxiliary fleet... No... It was too noisy to be 'The Mole'. Thunderbird One? Thunderbird Two?? Thunderbird Three???  
  
That couldn't be right. There'd be no way he'd try to sleep beside Thunderbird Three while she was launching, or were they just testing the rockets? No, that didn't make sense either.  
  
He raised his hand to his head and winced as it came in contact with a sore spot that had been bandaged.  
  
Despite the protests of his aching head he cracked open an eye.  
  
He instantly recognised his surroundings before he shut the eye again. He was in Thunderbird Two's sickbay.   
  
So that was the noise. It must be Thunderbird Two's engines.  
  
No that didn't make sense either. The sickbay was specially insulated to reduce engine noise to a minimum.   
  
And there was the biggie! Why were the engines going when he wasn't operating them? Thunderbird Two wasn't flying, he could tell by the lack of motion and vibration.  
  
So, what was that motor? And why did they have it operating in the sick bay?  
  
Why was he lying down in here?  
  
He struggled to make sense of the questions that filled his befuddled brain.  
  
Virgil opened his eyes again. Despite the fact that the room was spinning he could see someone preparing something at the workspace beside him.  
  
"Scott." He croaked.  
  
He saw Scott turn and smile with something akin to relief, before a wave of nausea forced him to close his eyes again.  
  
If Scott was saying something to him, it was impossible to hear over the roar of that motor. Why didn't Scott turn it off? He took a breath to steady his stomach and opened his eyes again.  
  
Scott was indeed talking.  
  
"I can't hear you Scott." Virgil yelled.  
  
Scott frowned.  
  
"That noise? What is it?" Virgil yelled again.  
  
He saw Scott say something but still couldn't hear it. He shook his head in frustration and closed his eyes again.  
  
Scott stood there, trying to make sense as to what was going on. "Virgil?" he asked. "What noise?"  
  
There was no answer from the figure on the bed.  
  
A chill shot down Scott's spine. "Virgil? Can you hear me?"  
  
Still no response.  
  
Hesitantly Scott reached out and touched Virgil on the arm. Obviously unwillingly Virgil opened his brown eyes.  
  
Can you hear me? Scott asked again. This time using sign language at the same time.  
  
No. Virgil signed back.  
  
I can hear you. Scott told him.  
  
Then you've got better hearing than I have. Virgil signed crossly. His headache was getting worse.  
  
What can you hear? Scott signed.  
  
There was confusion on Virgil's face. That noise of course.   
  
What noise?   
  
That roaring motor noise. You must be able to hear it.   
  
Scott shook his head.  
  
I don't understand. The nausea was getting too much so Virgil closed his eyes again. The room's spinning, and I've got a headache.   
  
"Virgil! Look at me!" Scott tried yelling. But there was no response. "Oh, heck." He said worriedly. "Please not this. Not now!" Once again he tried to get Virgil's attention by touching his arm.  
  
"What!" Virgil said crossly. Then he remembered. What?   
  
Can you hear anything?   
  
I told you. I can't hear anything for that noise.   
  
There's no noise. The room's quiet.   
  
Virgil closed his eyes. Slowly Scott's statement sank in. He opened his eyes again and this time Scott could see fear. "There's no noise?"  
  
Scott shook his head. "No."  
  
"What can I hear? I can't hear you, only this roaring sound." He swallowed to get a feeling of panic under control.  
  
Do you remember what happened?   
  
Virgil shut his eyes again. "Wasn't there an explosion?" He put his arm over his eyes to block the light out. "I feel sick."  
  
Scott watched his brother's hand clench into a white knuckled fist, and got two kidney bowls. Before he placed them on the bed he brought the bases together with great force beside Virgil's ear.  
  
There was no response.  
  
"What's happening?" Virgil asked pathetically, oblivious to the clang of the bowls. "What's wrong with me?"  
  
Scott needed to communicate with him, but clearly he wasn't feeling well enough to open his eyes and read sign language. A flash of inspiration came and Scott hopefully ferreted about in a cupboard. "Just what we need," he pulled out a Braille machine and checked it over.  
  
This one had a pad where the reader would place their fingers, and small pins would raise and lower themselves making each letter of the Braille alphabet, thus enabling the typist to communicate with the sightless person. They'd never found a situation where such an arrangement was necessary... until now.  
  
"Where are you Scott?" Virgil asked, unwilling to open his eyes again. He reached out for his elder brother.  
  
"I'm here." Scott took the hand. "I won't leave you."  
  
"I'm deaf aren't I?" Virgil asked in a plaintive voice.  
  
Scott communicated with him the only way he had available at this moment. He gave his hand a comforting squeeze.  
  
Gordon came into the room. "How is he?" he asked quietly. He noticed that Scott was looking a little grey and that Virgil was obviously conscious. The sight of his brothers holding hands put him on his guard. "How's it going, Virgil?"   
  
Virgil didn't reply.  
  
"He can't hear you, Gordon."  
  
"What!? Why? What's wrong?"  
  
"I don't know. All he can hear is a roaring noise."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
Scott nodded. "See if you can get a response."  
  
Gordon found a paper bag and blew it up. He held the inflated bag next to Virgil's head and popped it with a loud bang.  
  
"He didn't even flinch." He noted soberly. "How bad do you think it is?"  
  
"I don't know," Scott said equally seriously. "I guess we won't know until we get him home. I'm going to try to get a bit more information so we can send it to Brains. But I don't want to let go of his hand. Get that chair, and put the Braille typewriter on it will you. That's it, beside the cot."  
  
When the machine had been positioned to Scott's satisfaction he placed Virgil's hand in the correct place. "I hope he can remember what he learnt."  
  
"What are you doing?" Virgil raised his head and opened his eyes enough to see the contraption. Then he let his head fall back on the pillow.  
  
Scott tried typing. * Do you understand? *  
  
Despite it all Virgil managed a small smile. "I knew there was a reason why I learnt Braille. I understand."  
  
* Any pain? *  
  
"Headache and nausea."  
  
* Anything else? *  
  
" Everything's spinning and there's this continuous noise."  
  
* You said it sounds like a motor. *  
  
"I feel like we're testing Thunderbird Three's jets in my head."  
  
* What can you remember before the explosion? *  
  
Things were clearer in his mind now. "We were at an oil refinery. I was helping you get Mobile Control clear. We thought there might be an explosion." Then his eyes flew open and he tried to sit up. "Is everyone else okay?"  
  
Gordon moved in and guided him back down onto the cot. "We're okay, Virgil."  
  
* They're okay. * Scott reiterated. *Alan's getting Thunderbird One ready. He's going to swing by and pick up Professor Bunsen. Remember he was going to give me a check up today, so he can check you out at the same time. *  
  
"Great. I'm going to be checked over by the Nutty Professor." Virgil moaned. "I must be in a bad way."  
  
* We don't know yet. It's probably temporary. *  
  
Virgil moaned again and tried to get more comfortable.   
  
* What's wrong? *  
  
"The noise! It's getting worse!"  
  
"I'll radio home and tell them." Gordon offered. "You keep him company."  
  
Scott nodded and picked up Virgil's hand again, rubbing it reassuringly. Then he felt the pressure of his brother's grip increase. "We're going to have to do something to help him."  
  
As if he'd heard him Virgil said. "Can't you do something? This is going to drive me crazy."  
  
Jeff Tracy answered Gordon's radio call immediately. "How is he?"  
  
"He's conscious, Dad..."  
  
Jeff relaxed.  
  
"...But..."  
  
Jeff tensed up again. "Yes, Gordon."  
  
"He can't hear anything. He says he's got this roaring sound in his head."  
  
"Can't hear any..." Jeff closed his eyes and Gordon could almost see the thoughts 'not again' flash through his mind.  
  
"Uh, Dad. Is Brains there?"  
  
Jeff looked at him again. "He's in his lab. I'll patch you through."  
  
Gordon could read concern behind Brains' thick glasses when the scientist appeared on screen. "How is he?"  
  
Gordon explained all he knew. "What can we do Brains? He says the roaring's getting worse."  
  
Brains thought for a moment. "The tinnitus could have been caused by anything..."  
  
"The what?"  
  
"Tinnitus. It's the technical term for roaring either in the ears or the head. It's not necessarily linked to his, ah, p-perceived deafness."  
  
"There's nothing perceived about it Brains. I tried popping a paper bag beside his ear and he didn't move a muscle."  
  
"D-Do you know, did he hit his head?"  
  
"Yeah, it looks like he did. He's got a small head injury and there was blood and some of his hair on Mobile Control."  
  
"Ah, th-that could explain the headache, and possibly the tinnitus. The hearing loss could be as a r-result of the concussive nature of the explosion."  
  
"I know my ears were ringing afterwards, but the rest of us could still hear okay. So why's he lost his hearing?"  
  
"I-I won't be able to answer that question until I can examine him, Gordon."  
  
"Okay. Can we give him anything in the meantime? He says the tin-eye..."  
  
"Tinnitus."  
  
"...Tinnitus is getting worse."  
  
"T-Try a mild sedative. I don't want to do too much medically until we know wh-what's wrong."  
  
"Okay, Brains. Thanks."  
  
"M-Make sure the cabin pressure remains c-constant. Call me if there's any ch-change in his condition."  
  
"Will do. Out."  
  
Scott had heard the exchange. He was already going through the medical cabinet looking for the required medication. He found the hypodermic syringe and placed it on the work surface beside the cot. Then, using the Braille typewriter he explained to Virgil what they were going to do. That finished he picked up the syringe.  
  
"Ah, Scott."  
  
Scott looked at the injured man lying on the cot. Yes?   
  
"No offence intended, but I'd prefer it if Gordon did that."  
  
Gordon laughed at Scott's shocked face. "I don't blame him Scott. No offence intended, but I'd feel exactly the same way at the moment. Your eyesight's still not good enough. He doesn't want to end up looking like a pincushion."  
  
"I bet you would've let me do it while I was blind!"  
  
Gordon shook his head. "Nope. I think I would have rather done it to myself."  
  
"Great." Scott muttered. "So much for trust." He handed over the syringe.  
  
Gordon looked down at Virgil who was looking back at him with a half smile. So, you trust me with this. Do you trust me to fly Thunderbird Two?   
  
Virgil screwed up his face. "What's the option?"  
  
We let Scott fly her.   
  
Virgil let out a resigned sigh. "I guess we're both in your hands."  
  
***  
  
Brains contacted Thunderbird One. "Alan. Can I p-please talk to Bunny?"  
  
"Sure Brains." Alan made the necessary connection to the radio at the passenger seat. "Can you see him, Professor?"  
  
"I can my boy, I can." Professor Bunsen's safety harness was barely restraining him. The prospect of flying in Thunderbird One had made him even more excitable. "Good to see you, Robot Head. How's Virgil?"  
  
"He's c-conscious, but he's lost his hearing and appears to have developed t-tinnitus."  
  
"Lost his hearing!" Alan said in concern.  
  
"How severely?" Professor Bunsen asked.  
  
"G-Gordon seemed to think it was total."  
  
"Total!" Alan echoed. "And what's tinny..."  
  
"Tinnitus... Noises inside the head... What have you prescribed?" Bunny Bunsen was concentrating on the face in the video screen, rather than the pilot.  
  
"A mild sedative, to keep him calm. Ap-pparently the tinnitus is quite severe." Brains gave the Professor a full run down of what he knew.  
  
"Good, Brains. Let us hope that this is only a temporary condition. The world shouldn't lose his music."  
  
It wasn't until they'd signed off that Brains realised that the Professor hadn't used his hated nickname this time.   
  
Bunny Bunsen must be truly worried.  
  
***  
  
Two other worried people were in Thunderbird Two's sickbay.   
  
Gordon looked at Virgil who was now sleeping fitfully. "If this hearing loss is permanent, it'll kill him."  
  
"No it won't, Gordon. He'll learn to cope."  
  
"Like you did? But without his music..."  
  
"You'd better get up front and start this bird up. The sooner we get him to medical care, the sooner we'll know how serious this is. Then, IF we need too, we can start worrying about the future... 


	47. Seventy Eight

Seventy Eight - BF  
  
"Blood in the ear canal..." Bunny Bunsen straightened up and reached for an otoscope.  
  
"Ruptured Tympanum?" Brains suggested.  
  
"Looks like it." The professor grunted. "But that doesn't explain the severity of the tinnitus or the hearing loss. I want to check him out with a cat scan..."  
  
Virgil lay quietly, aware that these two men were trying to help him, willing them to do something to enable him to hear something, anything! Anything rather than that annoying roar.  
  
***  
  
Thunderbird's One and Two had arrived at Tracy Island almost simultaneously.   
  
Bunny Bunsen had leapt out of his seat and had tried to open the door to Thunderbird One's hatch. Alan told him to wait until firstly Thunderbird One and then the travelling gantry arrived into position and the door could be opened. The Professor had rushed out onto the platform and had only just been saved from plummeting the 100 odd feet to the hanger's floor by Alan's quick reactions.  
  
Scott and Gordon had wheeled the gurney containing Virgil into the infirmary and had then been banished to the hallway by the Professor.  
  
At a loss to do anything else, Gordon and Alan had returned to Thunderbird One and Two's hangers to prepare the craft for the next time they would be needed.  
  
Grandma Tracy sat in the lounge, her needles clacking together as she knitted frantically, concern for her grandson etched onto her face.  
  
Kyrano and Tin-Tin set about making a meal for anyone who would feel like eating.  
  
Jeff and Scott stood on the patio leaning on the railing.  
  
"I'll want a full debriefing later." Jeff said quietly.  
  
Scott nodded. "Just the five of us, or do you want to wait until Virg. can join us?"  
  
"We'll see what the Professor says. I'd rather if you all were there."  
  
"So would I."  
  
Jeff frowned. "Could he hear anything?"  
  
"No... Scott sighed. "Gordon made the comment that if this hearing loss is permanent it would kill him. I said it wouldn't, but I don't know... He'd take it pretty hard."  
  
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Jeff looked about to see if anyone was within earshot. "How'd you get on with your talk?"  
  
Scott grimaced. "I talked and he said nothing... and then we had this callout." He gave an ironic laugh. "Do you know what the last thing I said to him was? Before we left my room? That he hadn't heard everything that I wanted to say to him. Prophetic or what?"  
  
"It may not be. At least you boys can all use sign language. It's the rest of us that are likely to have problems communicating."  
  
"I told you you should learn."  
  
"I didn't think I'd need it, especially not for one of my own sons." Jeff thumped his hands on the balcony rail. "No. I'm not going to think like that! He'll be fine."  
  
"I think he did want to talk." Scott said. "He suggested that I travel with him and Gordon go with Alan, just before Mobile Control's alarm went off. He said it was so that I could reacquaint myself with Thunderbird Two, and Gordon with Thunderbird One."  
  
"But you don't think that was the real reason."  
  
Scott shook his head.   
  
They looked out over the calm Pacific.   
  
"I've decided on one thing." Scott suddenly said. "I've decided that it's not Regnad that's jinxed against us. It's Doctor Hughes."  
  
Jeff raised an eyebrow in query.  
  
"He was at Regnad Corp. and I was blinded. He was at the collapsed hospital and Alan gets delayed concussion. And then I meet him again today! If I ever meet him again I'm getting back into Thunderbird One and leaving."  
  
"If you're going to get superstitious then remember these things happen in threes." Jeff said wryly. "His spell's broken. Besides if it wasn't for him you would never have met Professor Bunsen and would never have regained your sight."  
  
"You know, I was going to suggest that we retain the modified Mobile Control." Scott said. "I WAS going to suggest that we train the others up on it."  
  
"Was?"  
  
"You'll have to check it out once we know how Virgil is. But it's been totalled. The explosion wrecked it. We're going to have to go back to the original model."  
  
Jeff looked at his oldest in concern. "Didn't you say you two were trying to get it away from the refinery. How come you're unhurt, Virgil's... well... hopefully not badly hurt... and Mobile Control was 'totalled'."  
  
Scott shrugged. "Just lucky I guess. We'd both decided to leave it and get out of there when the explosion happened. Maybe I was a fraction quicker than Virgil and he had Mobile Control between him and the explosion. Maybe he'll be able to enlighten us later."  
  
A beeping from the lounge drew them back indoors. John's concerned face looked down on them. "How's Virgil?"  
  
"We haven't had any news yet." Jeff was saying as both Alan and Gordon re-entered the lounge.  
  
"How long is it going to take them?" Alan grumbled as he flopped down onto the sofa.  
  
His question was answered by both Bunny Bunsen and Brains entering the lounge.  
  
Jeff straightened up. "Well?"  
  
"We've currently got him under sedation. He has ruptured both tympanum, and the cat scan is inconclusive as to what other damage has been done. There may be some damage to the utricle, which could causing the nausea, but there are many factors which may cause this reaction. There's possibly some damage to the cochlea, the auditory nerve or maybe the organ of corti. Any of which could explain the hearing loss. The tinnitus is most likely caused by the inner ear damage, coupled with the ruptured tympanum, although we can't rule out some other factor or indeed damage to the middle ear. It may also have been caused by the head trauma. Or it has been known to occur after some emotional, physical or social disruption in the sufferer's life. You people would have a better idea if that's a possibility than I would. I've taken some tests, which I'll study more closely at home. Your equipment here is too antiquated."  
  
Brains reddened in anger.  
  
"Alan! You can take me home in Thunderbird One now and then I can get started on my analysis straight away."   
  
"Ah, right!" Alan said nonplussed. He looked to his father for confirmation.  
  
"Go on." Jeff acknowledged. "The sooner you're there, the sooner you'll be back again."  
  
"Okay." Reluctantly Alan led the Professor back into Thunderbird One.  
  
Once the door had closed behind them Jeff turned back to Brains. "Now would you mind translating that for us?"  
  
"V-Virgil has burst both eardrums. There is a small ch-chamber in the inner ear called the utricle which possibly has suffered some minor d-damage. If so it would probably upset h-his sense of balance and coordination for a day or two. It looked as though th-there was some damage to the structures of the inner ear, which could cause the deafness. It's this that is p-probably causing the tinnitus, although it c-could be as a result of hitting his head on Mobile Control."  
  
"I think I understood the words emotional, physical or social disruption." Scott said. "Such as?" he glanced sideways at his father.  
  
Brains shrugged. "I don't know. It sounded to me as if B-Bunny was covering all bases."  
  
"Never mind all that." Gordon said impatiently. "What's the prognosis?"  
  
"I don't know th-that either. The r-ruptured eardrum may take up to three to six months to heal. As for any other injuries... th-that's what Bunny is going to attempt to ascertain."  
  
"So we don't know if it could be temporary or permanent." Grandma Tracy brought the topic back down to a level that they could all understand.  
  
Brains nodded sadly. "Yes." 


	48. Seventy Nine

Seventy Nine - BF  
  
The next day Virgil felt well enough to get up. He joined his brothers in the lounge for the debriefing.  
  
How're you feeling now? John asked from his vantage point of the portrait.  
  
Not bad. Virgil admitted. Though I'd feel better if I knew what was wrong with me.   
  
Well the nutty Professor's going to be going all out to find out what's wrong. Alan told him. He was out of Thunderbird One before I'd even got the ladder fully extended.   
  
Where's Dad? Gordon asked.  
  
Scott looked at his watch. He set down this meeting for two p.m. It's only one fifty.   
  
Who's going to translate what Father says for me? Virgil asked. It'll be easier if I know who to look at.   
  
I'll do it. Alan offered.  
  
And I'll do Brains, if he joins us. Gordon added.  
  
Thank heavens you guys can all sign. Virgil said, then he frowned. I'll tell you one thing though, if any of you start to call me 'Verge', I'll throttle you. I'm not an extra bit on the edge of things.   
  
You can't expect us to spell out your name every time. John pointed out.  
  
How about Verge-L? Gordon asked.  
  
"No!"  
  
Verge-ill?   
  
Only if you let me call you Gourd-on.   
  
Gordon's face showed what he thought of that idea.  
  
Hey yeah! Alan exclaimed. Big brother can be Scot-T, and the Eye in the Sky can be... he turned to where John was glaring down on him.  
  
Don't even think of going there! John responded threateningly.  
  
Just call me V. I'll be happy with that. Virgil hastily cut the argument short.  
  
That's easy. Even Dad should be able to sign that. Gordon said.  
  
Jeff chose that moment to enter the room. He stood behind Virgil. "How is he?" he asked.  
  
"Don't you know it's rude to talk behind people's backs?" Virgil told him.  
  
"How'd you know?" Jeff asked, perplexed.  
  
Virgil watched Alan sign the question. "I could see your reflection in the chrome trim of the table. Alan's going to translate for you."  
  
"Good! Thank you Alan." Jeff sat down. "Well, we'd better get started..."  
  
***  
  
***  
  
Early the next day and Jeff was deep in thought. He had an important contract he was trying to put together for Tracy Industries and the numbers just weren't adding up. He looked at the piles of papers sitting on his desk. The excitement and stresses of the last week or so had pushed more mundane business to the background and now he was hoping for a few hours peace and quiet and the chance to catch up.  
  
At first he didn't worry about the rhythmical sounds he could hear from further down the house. They had the same relaxing tempo as a heart beat and helped to centre his thoughts.  
  
Then the sounds became louder.  
  
Music?  
  
Who'd be playing music at this volume? Everyone should be working somewhere in the complex.  
  
The volume increased. His nerves, already stretched due to the backload of work, neared breaking point. Someone was going to get a piece of his mind!  
  
Jeff stood, and in doing so knocked some papers to the floor. Desperate not to lose his tenuous grasp on the paper war he was currently fighting he lunged for them. His outstretched fingers just missed the falling sheets and his other elbow knocked his cup of coffee. Sliding on its coaster, the cup skidded across the desk, splashing its contents as it went. It hit the ornament that doubled as the microphone and tipped, the remaining liquid soaking much of what resided on the desk.  
  
He stared at the mess. Hours of work had just been ruined.  
  
Anger boiled over.  
  
He stormed off down to the source of the noise that could no longer be referred to as music.  
  
He barrelled in through the bedroom door and pulled the power cord from the wall.  
  
"Virgil! What do you think you are doing!?"  
  
Virgil had been standing by one of his speakers. He was startled when his father grabbed him by the arm and jumped backwards, inadvertently pulling the speaker with him. It crashed to the floor.  
  
"Are you trying to deafen us all?" Jeff yelled. "I've just ruined hours of work because of that noise that you call music. What are you doing? ... Answer me!"  
  
Virgil stared back. His face a mixture of bewilderment, frustration and a trace of fear. His eyes watching his father glower at him, trying to make sense of what was being said.  
  
"I-I can't hear you."  
  
Jeff felt as if he'd been slapped in the face. He immediately calmed down. "I'm sorry, son. I'm an idiot. I forgot."  
  
Virgil still looked bewildered.  
  
"I wish I knew sign language." Jeff said in frustration.  
  
"What?" Virgil sounded equally frustrated.  
  
Jeff indicated the stereo. "What were you doing?"  
  
Virgil appeared to understand. "I was trying to see if I could feel the music. I thought maybe if I placed my hands on the speaker, I could somehow hear it. I thought maybe there was some volume I could still hear..." He sat on his bed, his hands clenched tightly in fists.  
  
Jeff sat beside him and put a fatherly arm around his shoulders. "And can you?"  
  
"Pardon?" Virgil asked.  
  
Brains knocked on the door. "Excuse m-me, Mr Tracy."  
  
"What is it Brains?"  
  
"B-Bunny has sent through his initial test results. He's 90 percent confident th-that Virgil will make a full recovery."  
  
"That's good." Jeff beamed. "But why only 90 percent?"  
  
Brains held some papers in his hand, and he looked down at them. "Th-There is one or two factors that he has some concerns over."  
  
"One or two...?" Jeff stood and positioned himself so that he could see for himself the data printouts that Brains was holding.  
  
Virgil remained seated. From there he could see the two men talking to each other. The way they kept glancing at him he knew they were talking about him. He watched their mouths trying to gain some idea of what was being said. Smiles merged into frowns and back into expressions of relief. More talking, and more...   
  
Finally he could take it no longer.  
  
"You're talking about me aren't you! Do you have to do it in front of me? If you can't talk to me couldn't you at least have the decency to do it behind my back. I won't hear you either way, but at least I won't know you're talking."  
  
"Virgil, I'm sorry..." Jeff started to apologise.  
  
"Get out! Get out of my room! And take this with you!" Virgil pulled his stereo off its stand and thrust it into his father's arms, before striding over to his window. He leant on the windowsill and gazed out at the view, breathing heavily.  
  
Jeff handed Brains the stereo. "Put this somewhere safe will you?"  
  
"Of course, Mr Tracy." Brains quietly withdrew.   
  
Jeff touched Virgil gently on the arm.   
  
Virgil angrily brushed his hand away. "Leave me alone!"  
  
Unable to communicate, and severely chastened, Jeff complied.  
  
He ran into Scott standing in the hallway, arms folded disapprovingly. "You've really done it now haven't you."  
  
Jeff ran his hand through his hair. "I forgot! I can't believe it, but I actually forgot that he can't hear. I was tearing strips off him for having the music too loud and he couldn't hear a word I said."  
  
Scott's frown of anger transformed itself into a frown of concern. "He was playing music?"  
  
"He said he was trying to see what he could feel... and hear."  
  
"Why's Brains got the stereo?"  
  
"Virgil wanted us to take it. The way he ripped it off its stand he's lucky its got wireless connections. I just wish I could talk to him. Do you know how frustrating it is trying to communicate with someone who can't understand you?"  
  
"Every time I'm on a rescue in a non-English speaking country, trying to deal with someone who's anxious and frightened and trying to get International Rescue to help and is gabbling too fast for Mobile Control's translator to even get a handle on what language it is, let alone what is being said."  
  
"What do you do?"  
  
"Smile a lot, and hope they'll calm down enough that Mobile Control can cope, or else I get John to talk to them."  
  
"I didn't do that." Jeff sighed. "I got angry and upset him."  
  
"Should I talk to him?"  
  
"He won't want to see me. You can at least tell him that Professor Bunsen is fairly sure that he'll get his hearing back."  
  
"He is?" Scott's face broke into a smile. "That's great!"  
  
"Yes. There's more he should know, but we'll worry about that later."  
  
Scott's eyes narrowed. "More?"  
  
"Nothing to worry about. When you've finished you show me the signs to use so I can tell him that I'm sorry."  
  
"They're easy enough. This is sorry ."  
  
Jeff tried to make a sentence. Me sorry.   
  
"You mean, I'm sorry.   
  
"What did I say?"  
  
"Me sorry."  
  
"Oh... I think I'd better go practise." Jeff looked disappointed. "I can't even get him to look at me at the moment. Please tell him I'm sorry, Scott. I'll try to talk to him when he's feeling better."  
  
"Okay."  
  
***  
  
Scott entered the room, noticing the fallen speaker. He moved it back into its upright position, wondering if he should place it somewhere out of Virgil's sight.  
  
He decided against it and tapped Virgil on the arm.  
  
"I said get... Scott!"  
  
Hi.   
  
"Did Father send you in?"  
  
I heard the end of your 'discussion' and offered to pass on his apologies.   
  
"They were standing there talking as if I wasn't even here."  
  
He's really sorry.   
  
Virgil leant against the windowpane. "This is so frustrating."  
  
Apparently Professor Bunsen thinks your deafness is only temporary.   
  
Virgil brightened. "I sure hope he's right..." then he straightened up. "I need some fresh air. Fancy a walk along the beach?"  
  
Love to.   
  
***  
  
The Pacific Ocean was a stormy shade of blue, Virgil noted as he gazed out over the breakers. Pacific - peaceful - "I think I can see why Gordon's so drawn to water. If I watch the sea I can fool myself into believing that I'm hearing the waves and not these noises in my head."  
  
"T-I-N-N-I-T-U-S." Scott signed.  
  
Virgil frowned. "What?"  
  
"T-I-N-N-I-T-U-S. That's what the noises are called."  
  
"Oh. So I don't have to call them Fred or something like that. How do you say it?"  
  
Actually Brains and the Professor each pronounce it differently. Scott thought for a moment. Tin.   
  
"Tin."  
  
Eye.   
  
"Eye."  
  
T-U-S. Like bus with a T instead of a B.   
  
"Tus."  
  
That's it.   
  
"Tinnitus. Tinnitus." Virgil practised a couple of times. "Am I saying it correctly?"  
  
Sounds fine to me. How's it sound... then Scott stopped. Can't you hear what you're saying?   
  
"No. All I can hear is the tinnitus."  
  
You can't hear yourself at all?   
  
"No."  
  
Scott was obviously shocked. I hadn't realised! I just assumed that you could at least hear yourself talk.   
  
"No." Virgil said sadly. "Nothing." He shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking along the beach. "You know, in one respect you had it easier."  
  
I had it easier? What do you mean?   
  
"When you were blind."  
  
"You must be really feeling sorry for yourself." Scott muttered to himself. How did I have it easier?   
  
"It was obvious you were blind. No one could forget. You had the cane. You tended to look straight ahead. And when you talked with someone you'd sort of cock your head so that you weren't looking directly at them. Almost, but not quite. Probably because you were using your ears more than your eyes."  
  
Did I? Scott hadn't realised.  
  
"Deafness is invisible. Everyone forgets. I see them... they're talking to me and I can't hear them and I see anger or frustration because I'm not responding the way they expect. And then they remember and they either look frustrated or embarrassed... You all do it."  
  
Yes we do. Scott said shamefully.  
  
"And do you know how lonely this is?" Virgil asked. "I'm grateful that you guys can sign, I think I would have gone mad otherwise. But when I'm with one of the others, like earlier, it's as if I'm watching the TV and the mute's on and I can't find the remote. They try, and then they give up and basically ignore me."  
  
They don't mean too.   
  
"I know. But it's so frustrating!"  
  
Well, remember this isn't permanent.   
  
"That's what I keep telling myself. But what if the Professor's got it wrong?"  
  
You'll cope, like I did. And I'll help where I can.   
  
"Does that mean I can hit you when things get too much?" Virgil asked wryly.  
  
I'd rather you didn't. Scott was smiling as he replied, but his thoughts were on the unfinished conversation of a couple of nights ago.  
  
"I guess if this is permanent I won't be going on any more rescues."  
  
Why not? I managed with a bit of equipment modification. There's nothing stopping you piloting Thunderbird Two.   
  
"But communication is so important in International Rescue. What if I'm flying above something that's going to explode? How can you tell me to get out of there? By the time the computers translated your words, and I've read them, I could be blown to Kingdom Come."  
  
We'll use a red emergency light.   
  
"And telling me which direction to take?"  
  
To turn to starboard, we can flash a green light.   
  
"And to port?" Virgil asked wryly.  
  
A red one! Realisation dawned in Scott. Oh, okay. Amber for the emergency. My point is it's not impossible. Brains'll think of something.   
  
"Yeah." Virgil didn't sound convinced.  
  
They came to a sand covered log. Virgil automatically stepped over it.   
  
Scott was sent sprawling in the sand. Instantly Virgil was at his side. "Are you okay?"  
  
Yeah. Scott glared at the log. I didn't see that. It's camouflaged.   
  
"You didn't see it! Your eyesight's still not too good is it?"  
  
Why do you think I'm not begging to be let loose in Thunderbird One? Scott stood and dusted himself down before continuing their walk down the beach. I can see your face pretty clearly... which I'm glad of." He added quickly. "My feet are out of focus, and the summit of the volcano's starting to blend into the sky. Are those storm clouds?   
  
"I hadn't realised."  
  
So we've both learnt something about each other today. Scott grinned.  
  
"Yeah. We're a pair of crocks."  
  
And we're both going to get better. Remember that.   
  
They walked on a bit further in silence. They'd circumnavigated a quarter of the island. They came to some rocks.  
  
"Let's have a rest." Virgil suggested.  
  
They sat so they were facing each other...  
  
***  
  
Tin-Tin had been looking for them both. She followed the path that ran parallel to the beach. She began to despair that she'd missed them when the path started climbing up towards the summit. Finally she spotted them fifteen feet below her. She moved closer to the edge to try to get their attention...  
  
***  
  
"You know the other day..." Virgil began uncertainly, "... when you 'kidnapped' me?"  
  
Yes. Scott said warily. Sorry about that.   
  
" I wanted to say..."  
  
***  
  
"Scott!" Tin-Tin yelled, waving her arms madly. "Scott!" She took another step closer to the edge.  
  
The ground beneath her feet gave way. She screamed as she tumbled down towards the churning waters of the Pacific Ocean.  
  
Scott heard her.  
  
Virgil saw her.  
  
"Tin-Tin!" 


	49. Eighty

Eighty - BF  
  
They were on their feet and running to the assistance of their friend who was more like a sister to them.  
  
Scott fell several times as his eyes misjudged the unevenness of the rocks he was traversing.  
  
Virgil was the first to arrive. "Tin-Tin!" he yelled as he scanned the boiling waters for some sign of her.  
  
Frustratingly the only reply he could hear was the irritating sound of the tinnitus.  
  
Scott scrambled to his side, breathing heavily, his arms bleeding from several grazes he'd received. "Can you see her?"  
  
"Can you hear her?" Virgil asked urgently, not hearing his brother's question.  
  
"No. Yes!" Scott was just able to hear a yell from inside a cave that was frothing with white water. "She's in there!"  
  
"What?" Virgil asked.  
  
Scott cursed his forgetfulness. In there. He pointed into the cave.  
  
Virgil paled. "Tide's coming in. She'll never be able to swim out of there alone."  
  
Scott did what he did best, he took control. Help me down there. I'll go in and help her. You go and alert the others and get a P.F.D.   
  
"Are you crazy! You could be killed."  
  
So could T-T if I don't try. She could be hurt after that fall.   
  
"Okay." Virgil said reluctantly. "Be careful." He helped Scott into the water, telling him where it was safe to put his feet. "Okay?"  
  
Scott gave him the thumbs up signal. Go!   
  
"See you."  
  
It was a battle against the wash of the pounding waves.   
  
Scott knew this particular cave, they'd often used it for training purposes. It was long and dark and curved away to the right. As the darkness increased his hard won skills of the past year started to take over.  
  
***  
  
Virgil didn't have far to go. Scattered around the base of the island were what Brains had termed "Survivor Stations". Each of these stations contained a personal floatation device or P.F.D. The theory was that should any sailors be shipwrecked on Tracy Island they would be able to remove the P.F.D. and use it to assist any others to make it to dry land. The removal of the P.F.D. would set off an alarm at Tracy Villa alerting the residents to the presence and location of the survivors.  
  
It was a quicker way of alerting the entire family than using their watches.  
  
Virgil was only half a minute away from the nearest Survivor Station. He ripped the P.F.D. free and headed back to the cave. His feet lost traction on the slimy rock and he fell. He quickly regained his footing and managed to get back to the mouth of the cave without further mishap. Having nothing else available he tethered himself to the P.F.D. and threw it out into the middle of the channel leading into the cave. The current swept it into the dark maw of the rock face.  
  
***  
  
Back in Tracy Villa, the distinctive alarm of a Survivor Station had rung out when the P.F.D. was removed. Gordon grabbed his wetsuit and oxygen tanks, Alan checked the locker that contained hover bikes and a large inflatable dinghy that had it's own hover transportation, and Brains retrieved the medical equipment. They made their way to the assembly area - the lounge. Grandma and Kyrano assembled blankets and started boiling up water for hot drinks.   
  
Jeff was scanning the map of Tracy Island. A light showed him clearly where the alarm had been activated. He looked at the assembled group. "Where's Tin-Tin, Scott and Virgil?"  
  
No one knew.  
  
"Right. Let's get down there!"  
  
***  
  
The salt water was stinging his grazes. He was being pushed by the waves against the hard rocks. But still Scott continued doggedly on. "Tin-Tin!" He yelled. "Where are you?"  
  
"I'm here." Her voice sounded tiny and afraid in the booming cavern.  
  
"Hang on, Honey. I'm coming."  
  
Tin-Tin was a strong swimmer, but even so she didn't have the strength to battle against the incoming waves. The water was pushing her against the rocks, whose jagged edges, although had been smoothed somewhat by millennia of wave action, were still rough and abrasive through the thin cotton of her dress. "Hurry, Scott!"  
  
"Where are you? Keep talking."  
  
"I-I'm here."  
  
She was closer now and Scott reached out. Her arm felt cold. He moved closer. A wave pushed them together. He heard her give an involuntary grunt as she was sandwiched between him and the unyielding rocks. "Sorry, Honey."  
  
A wave washed over the pair of them. They coughed and spluttered away the water.  
  
Scott felt above her head. "I think there's a ledge along here." He found it and eased her along so she was under it, then he grasped her by the waist. "Next wave that comes in, jump." He instructed. "I'll help you get to that ledge, you can sit there out of the water... Get ready... Go!"  
  
She jumped and found herself pushed upwards, partly by the force of the water and partly by his strong arms. "Made it!" she gasped. "What about you?"  
  
"I'm okay." He fought against another wave. The tide was definitely rising. He estimated that they would have half an hour at the most before the cave would be under water.  
  
They heard a voice above the roar of the water. "Scott! The P.F.D.'s coming in."  
  
"Thanks, Virgil." Scott yelled in reply. "What am I doing? He can't hear me." He muttered to himself before he began to listen intently. The P.F.D. had a little homing signal on it, and he was hopeful that he'd be able to hear it.  
  
His ears picked up a beeping sound and he edged towards it, managing to snare it. Then he made his way back to where Tin-Tin was seated. When he'd left her the water was just covering her feet, now it was up to her knees. "Put this around you."  
  
"What about you?"  
  
"I'll be all right. Just get out of here."  
  
She wrapped the P.F.D. about her. "I'm ready."  
  
He felt it to make sure it was secure, then he gave three tugs on the attached rope.  
  
***  
  
Virgil felt the tugs. "I hope that means what I think it does." He muttered and wrapping the rope around his left wrist for extra support, started pulling.  
  
***  
  
Tin-Tin jumped off her ledge and started battling against the surging breakers. The current pushed her against the rocks lining the cave and she used all her strength to push herself along the wall. Wave after wave broke over her, and she tried to time her breathing so that she wouldn't get a lung full of water.  
  
***  
  
Virgil continued pulling. The rope was starting to bite into his wrist and hands, but he merely kept on pulling, muscles taut against the strain. "Come on Tin-Tin."  
  
A wave broke over the rocks he was standing on and washed his feet out from under him. He fell heavily but maintained his grip.  
  
***  
  
Tin-Tin felt the rope suddenly go slack and was swept backwards against the rock, before the rope tightened again.  
  
***  
  
Virgil decided that it would be easier to remain seated. He braced his feet against another rock and continued pulling. The cold wind was making his ears hurt. His arms were aching and his legs were now taking up most of the strain, but he refused to give in. He wrapped the rope around his hands again and continued fighting against the pounding current.  
  
***  
  
It was starting to get lighter. Through the water that continuously clouded her vision Tin-Tin was sure she could see daylight. Wearily she pushed herself around a boulder and found herself in the mouth of the cave. It seemed to give her extra strength. She pushed on.  
  
***  
  
The sight of Tin-Tin also gave Virgil a new burst of energy. He gave an extra strong pull.   
  
Together it was enough that she made it to the rocks at his feet. She clung on with all her might as Virgil clambered down to her before dragging her to safety.  
  
He was surprised when another pair of hands took her from him. Alan was assisting her back to the hoverbikes.  
  
Where's Scott? Gordon asked.  
  
"In there!"  
  
Where?   
  
"I don't know." Virgil started to say, but Gordon had already turned back to Tin-Tin.   
  
"Where is he in the cave?"  
  
"Against the back wall. Hurry Gordon the water's up to his chest!"  
  
***  
  
The water was by now up to Scott's neck. He tried jumping in time with the waves to keep his head above water, but was rapidly losing strength due to the exertion and cold. He knew there was no way he could fight his way out alone. He kept listening out hopefully for the sound of the P.F.D. "Come on Virgil..., or someone..."  
  
***  
  
Jeff took Virgil by the shoulders and assisted him away from the tides edge. He found a rock that could double as a seat and sat his son down on it.  
  
Virgil looked past his father. "He's in there somewhere!"   
  
Jeff started unravelling the rope from Virgil's hands, noting the friction burns and cuts. "Gordon will save him, Virgil." He patted him on a wet shoulder reassuringly, reasoning that the action made more sense than mere words.  
  
***  
  
Gordon was swimming under the waves. Under the water the current was strong but he wasn't having to battle the breakers. A bright torch lit up much of what was ahead of him.  
  
***  
  
Back on land Alan placed a survival blanket around Tin-Tin's shoulders. She was shivering from shock and the cold wind that had blown up. The back of her dress was torn and bloodied from the scratches and grazes she'd received on the unforgiving rocks. "Can you walk?" he asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Come on, Honey. Your father's over here with Grandma. They'll look after you."  
  
"No, Alan. I'm not leaving until Scott's out of there. He saved my life!"  
  
"I'm not letting you get hypothermia..."  
  
"I'm fine!" She insisted.  
  
"Now you are! But I'm not taking any chances. They'll let us know if there's any news. Now come on!" he said sternly.  
  
Meekly she let him assist her to the two older people waiting anxiously by the hoverbikes.  
  
"My Daughter! Are you all right?!"  
  
"I am fine, Father."  
  
"She needs to get out of those wet clothes." Alan stated. "Her back's a mess."  
  
"Now we'll take care of Tin-Tin." Grandma told him. "You go back and see what you can do to help."  
  
"But Grandma...!"  
  
"Go!"  
  
He started hurrying back feeling that he'd been banished as much to protect Tin-Tin's modesty as anything else. There wasn't a lot he could do back at the cave at the moment.  
  
***  
  
Scott watched a light move towards him underwater. He'd climbed onto the smallest lip of rock to try to give himself more breathing space. "Gordon!" he shouted through the splashing water. "I'm here!"  
  
Gordon's light found a pair of legs. He stood up.  
  
"Ow!" Scott held up a hand to protect his sensitive eyes from the glaring light and slipped off the ledge.  
  
Gordon caught him. "Put this on!" He handed his brother a breathing mask and small oxygen bottle. "Can you swim out?"  
  
"I might need a little help. This cold sucks the strength right out of you."  
  
"Okay, stick with me."  
  
***  
  
Outside everyone waited breathlessly. The mouth of the cave was by now almost completely submerged.  
  
Jeff had left Virgil and was now standing beside Alan and Brains waiting for some sign that his other sons were going to make it out of that boiling cauldron of water.  
  
Virgil's legs didn't have the strength to enable him to join them. His eyes moved quickly from the mouth of the cave, to his family's faces and back again... trying to get some information that he was unable to hear. His hands, wrists and ears were stinging in the cold air but he ignored the pain. Then he saw Brains say something into a portable radio and Alan point towards the cave. He forced himself to his feet and wobbled over to the group.  
  
"That's good, Gordon." Brains said. "We can see your light. How is he?"  
  
"Tired." Gordon informed him. "I don't know of any injuries."  
  
Virgil tapped Alan on the shoulder. "What did he say?" he asked impatiently.  
  
At that moment two heads appeared from under the surface. They moved around into an eddy where the force of the water wasn't strong enough to dash them on the rocks. Brains, Jeff and Alan moved forward to help them out of the water.   
  
Virgil stayed where he was. He didn't have the strength to move any further, let alone help.  
  
As Gordon helped push Scott out of the water, Jeff grabbed one arm and Alan the other.   
  
"Tin-Tin! How is she?" Scott asked after he'd removed the breathing apparatus.  
  
"She's fine." Jeff said quickly. "How are you?"  
  
"Wet and cold."  
  
Brains gave him a survival blanket.  
  
Scott looked over to where Virgil was standing and gave him the thumbs up signal.  
  
Virgil managed one in return. Then he looked down at his bloodied and blistered hands. For the first time he realised that they were stinging. He looked back up. The rest of the group were heading back to where the hoverbikes were waiting, laughing and talking amongst themselves. His Grandmother was walking towards them carrying a flask of hot liquid for Scott and Gordon. She was smiling and saying something to the group. Kyrano and Tin-Tin were heading back to the villa.  
  
Suddenly Virgil felt alone and isolated from the rest of his family. He decided to make his own slow way back to the villa.   
  
He was well into his walk along the beach when sand spraying against his leg made him aware that a hoverbike had come up beside him.  
  
It was Alan. How come you're walking?   
  
Virgil shrugged. "I felt like it. Work out the kinks."  
  
Thanks for helping Tin-Tin back there.   
  
"Not a problem. How is she?"  
  
A little battered and bruised, but she'll be fine. She'll be sore tomorrow. By looks of you and Scott she won't be the only one.   
  
"I'm glad she's okay."  
  
You and Scott are quite a team.   
  
"I guess so."  
  
Just as well. The number of times you both get into trouble. Alan was pleased to see a small smile on Virgil's face.   
  
"You're a fine one to be talking about getting into trouble."  
  
Usually that's Gordon's fault. Alan noticed Virgil's hands. They look pretty painful.   
  
"They're okay."  
  
You look all done in, and you're wet. Did you get any water in your ears?   
  
"No."  
  
Good. Come on. That storm's about ready to hit and we can't have you getting hypothermia. Hop on the back and I'll take you home. 


	50. Eighty One

Eighty One - BF  
  
It was dinnertime that same evening. Everyone was hungry. They sat down and eyed up the food that had been placed on the table waiting for the last members of the group to arrive.  
  
"How's Tin-Tin, Kyrano?" Alan asked before taking a sip of his drink.  
  
"She is feeling tired, Mister Alan." Kyrano informed him gravely. "She will eat in bed and then sleep."  
  
Scott rotated his sore shoulders and rubbed at the bandages that protected his grazed arm. "Sounds like a good plan to me. Isn't Virgil joining us this evening too?"  
  
The rest of the group looked at each other.  
  
"Did anyone think to tell him dinner was ready?" Scott asked.  
  
"I rang the dinner bell as usual." Grandma said defensively.  
  
"That's a fat load of good to him." Scott said.  
  
"Scott! Don't talk to your Grandmother like that." Jeff reproached him.  
  
"Well! What do you expect?" Scott huffed. "He was telling me today how frustrating he's finding this, how we all tend to forget that he can't hear. He feels lonely..."  
  
"Lonely?" Gordon exclaimed.  
  
"Yes! Lonely!"  
  
"Is that why he was walking back home this afternoon?" Alan asked.  
  
Scott sighed. "This is ridiculous. Brains, you thought of modifying Mobile Control so that I could carry on with International Rescue. You should be able to come up with something to help him communicate with us on a day to day level."  
  
"It wasn't m-my idea to m-modify Mobile Control.' Brains informed him.  
  
"It wasn't your idea?" This was news to Scott "Then whose was it?"  
  
"V-Virgil's."  
  
"Virgil?"  
  
The rest of the family were nodding.   
  
"He convinced us that it would work." Jeff told him. He received a reproachful look from his mother and took a drink from his cup to hide his feelings of guilt.  
  
Scott threw his napkin onto the table. "I'm going to get him."  
  
***  
  
Scott found Virgil working in his studio. The easel was positioned so that he could paint the scene outside his window.   
  
The scene of the approaching storm.  
  
"Hi." Virgil said when he saw Scott.  
  
Dinner's ready.   
  
"Is it?" Virgil added a dab of paint and then put down his palette and brush.  
  
Thank you.   
  
"For what?"  
  
For having faith in me. Scott said emotionally.  
  
"Well you're a stronger swimmer than I am, and I couldn't hear Tin-Tin to find her..."  
  
No, I don't mean today.   
  
Virgil looked at him questioningly. "I know what the words are you just said, but I don't understand."  
  
I just found out it was your idea to modify Mobile Control.   
  
"Oh, that." Virgil said dismissively. "That was logical."  
  
No one else thought of it.   
  
"They would have eventually. They were still finding out what you were capable of. I already knew."  
  
I don't know about that. I've got the feeling Father wasn't too keen.   
  
Virgil gave a little smile. "He was dead against it initially. But the others were all for it, so he decided to give you a chance. Just as well you proved us right!"  
  
Thank you. Scott said again.  
  
"Well I said you could do something with International Rescue. I suddenly realised what that was." Virgil noticed that the rain had started to pelt down on his window. "Looks like it's going to be a big storm."  
  
Yes.   
  
There was a flash of light.  
  
Virgil didn't see him make the sign. He continued to stare outside. "This is good. I can pretend the tinnitus is actually the rain beating down on my window."  
  
V... Scott wanted to try and talk.  
  
Virgil placed his hand on the window pane. "I can feel it vibrating. Was that thunder?" He finally looked at Scott.  
  
Yes. V...   
  
There was another flash of lightening.  
  
Scott turned away, his eyes blinded by the sudden light.  
  
Virgil began to count. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, te... There's more thunder!" He felt the vibrations through the glass. "The centre of the storm is only two miles away. Isn't this great!"  
  
More lightening.  
  
Scott closed his eyes. The lightning's hurting my eyes. I'm going back to have dinner. Are you coming?   
  
"No. I'm not hungry. I want to paint this storm."  
  
With those hands?   
  
"They're okay. I can paint right handed."  
  
Are you sure about dinner?   
  
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'll see you in the morning."  
  
Night. Another bolt of lightning forced Scott from the room.  
  
Virgil sighed. He didn't feel fine. He felt terrible. He was stiff and sore and his hands hurt. The tinnitus was louder than it had ever been and he felt vaguely queasy. On top of all that he was feeling slightly giddy and he could feel the beginnings of a headache. He picked up the palette and painted in a lightening bolt and some rain. Then he put down the painting implements again.  
  
A flash of lightning drew his attention back to the window. He didn't have time to start counting before he felt the vibrations through the windowpane.   
  
The storm was here.  
  
He stared outside. The Pacific Ocean was now obliterated by the driving rain. He could feel the force of it beating against the window and was just able see the palm trees lashing wildly in the wind.   
  
He pressed his forehead against the window feeling the cool glass against his skin.  
  
A single tear ran down his cheek. 


	51. Eighty Two

Eighty Two - BF  
  
Most of the family was seated at the dining table when Virgil arrived the following morning. He flapped a hand in greeting at them and grabbed a mug for his morning cup of coffee.  
  
He jumped when someone touched him on the shoulder.  
  
He turned and faced Scott. "Don't do that to me!"  
  
Sorry. Scott signed. He examined his younger brother critically. Virgil looked terrible, there were dark circles under his eyes and his face was pallid, contrasting with the chestnut brown hair that he hadn't taken the time to comb. How are you? Did you get much sleep?   
  
Virgil shook his head forlornly. "No. None."  
  
How's the hearing?   
  
"No better." Virgil filled the mug, pushed past his brother and took his place at the table.  
  
Scott filled his own mug and sat down on the other side of the table. He watched as Virgil took a sip at his coffee and grimaced. Scott tasted his own drink and found nothing wrong with it. He looked over at his father who was watching Virgil with a frown of concern on his face. Their eyes met briefly in a gesture of support.  
  
Scott turned his attention to his breakfast. He buttered a slice of toast and then found himself drawn back to his brother.  
  
Virgil hadn't moved. Both hands were grasping his mug tightly, oblivious to the heat the emanated from the vessel. He was staring into the coffee as if he were fighting some inner battle. His family watched him, darting looks of concern to one another.  
  
Alan was the first to make a move. He gently touched his brother on the arm. "Virgil?"  
  
"No!" Virgil shoved his mug onto the table, ignoring that scalding coffee that splashed onto his and Alan's hands. He stood up, knocking over his chair in the process, and rushed from the room his hands to his head.  
  
Scott was the first to his feet and out the door. Everyone else made as if to follow.  
  
"Stop!" Jeff commanded. "I'll go. The rest of you stay here."  
  
"But..." He received several cries of protest and silenced them with a look. He followed in the footsteps of his two sons.  
  
Scott found Virgil in his bedroom, pacing up and down like a caged animal. He tried to get his attention.  
  
"This is not permanent! This is not permanent!" Virgil was saying to himself.  
  
"Virgil!" Although he knew speaking was pointless, Scott felt the need to vocalise the name.  
  
Virgil threw himself onto his bed and rubbed at his eyes with his fists. "This is not permanent!"  
  
Scott strode to the bedside to get his attention. V...   
  
But Virgil was back on his feet again. Unable to rest. Pacing up and down.  
  
Scott intercepted him. What's wrong?   
  
Virgil looked at him wildly. "The noise... I can't think... It won't stop..."  
  
It's getting worse?   
  
Virgil grabbed his hair in his hands. "Can't make it stop." He yelled. And then started pacing again.  
  
Scott looked worriedly over at his father who was standing in the doorway. "He needs help."  
  
"I agree, son. I'll go have a word with Brains." Jeff hesitated. "Look after him."  
  
Scott intercepted Virgil again. Come and sit down. He started to guide Virgil towards the side of the bed.   
  
Virgil sank onto it as if his legs had given out on him. He leant forward rubbing his face in his hands, once again grasping at his hair. Scott rubbed his back sympathetically, wishing there was more he could do.  
  
Then Virgil sat up straight. Scott took the opportunity to talk to him. Try to lie down again.   
  
Virgil complied. For ten seconds. Then he was back on his feet again, pacing up and down, up and down...  
  
"This is not permanent! This is not permanent!"  
  
Scott intercepted him again. V. Tell me. Are you in pain?   
  
"Make it stop, Scott." Virgil begged. "Please make it go away."  
  
I can't...   
  
With a moan Virgil turned away and began his pacing again, holding his head in his arms.  
  
Scott took the time to turn his attention to his watch. "Scott to Brains."  
  
"Brains here."  
  
"Get down here! The poor guy's in agony!"  
  
"I-I rather doubt that he is in any physical pain. Rather mental and emotional..."  
  
"I don't care what you think Brains." Scott yelled. "Just find something to help him!... Hey! Stop that!" Ignoring Brains' image he ran over to where Virgil had started banging his head against the wall. He pulled him back over to the bed and sat him down.  
  
"Help me!" Virgil pleaded and started bashing his ears with his fists.  
  
Scott grabbed his wrists, ignoring the bandages on his brother's hands, and, using all his strength, held them still.  
  
"Scott!" Virgil pleaded.  
  
Unable to communicate with him, Scott felt hopeless. "I'm sorry Virgil." He said, "Brains is coming. He'll help you." He hoped that the words would get through to his brother.   
  
Virgil closed his eyes and started to rock backwards and forwards, still constrained by Scott's grasp. "This is not permanent! This is not permanent!"  
  
"I hope you're right." Scott said to himself quietly, and then with considerably more volume, "Brains!"   
  
"I'm here, Scott."   
  
Scott hadn't heard him come up behind him. "Do something!"  
  
"I-I need to talk to him."  
  
"I daren't let go." Scott ground out. "He'll hurt himself if I do."  
  
"I-I don't know sign language." Brains said in frustration.  
  
"I'll get one of the others." Jeff was gone for a moment. He was back shortly with Gordon and Alan in tow.  
  
The younger Tracy's were both shocked at the sight of their brother, rocking backwards and forwards intoning, "This is not permanent!" over and over again.  
  
"Gordon! Translate for Brains will you." Jeff ordered gently.  
  
"Sure." Gordon touched Virgil on the shoulder. Look at me, V.   
  
He managed to get Virgil's attention. "Please help me, Gordon!"  
  
Brains is here. He'll do what he can, but he needs to ask you a few things. Look at me and I'll translate.   
  
Virgil nodded, a sheen of sweat glistening on his face.  
  
"Ask him is he in any physical pain."  
  
Gordon translated.   
  
"Head hurts!"  
  
"Ask him if it hurt before he started hitting it on the wall." Scott said.  
  
Gordon stared at him before translating.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Th-thank you, Scott. Ask him if there's any change to the noises he's hearing."  
  
Any change in the noise? Gordon asked.  
  
"Louder." Virgil closed his eyes. "Much louder."  
  
"Gordon." Brains said seriously. "It is important that you explain this to Virgil correctly. He must understand the implications. Bunny Bunsen has left some medication that will stop the tinnitus..."  
  
"Then why didn't he give it to Virgil earlier!" Alan asked impatiently.  
  
Brains ignored him. "It will anaesthetise h-his aural canal. He will n-not be able to hear anything. But, it will only last for about 24 hours. We w-will not be able to use it again for another 24 hours after that."  
  
"Okay." Gordon nodded emphatically. "I can tell him that."  
  
"Wait!" Brains ordered. "You must also tell him that it anaesthetises everything. The healing process will stop for the 24 hours that the medication is active."  
  
"So it'll slow down his recovery by at least a day." Jeff said in concern.  
  
Brains straightened and looked at his employer. "And may affect his total recovery. He may never r-regain his full hearing."  
  
Gordon stared at Brains. "You want me to tell him that too?"  
  
"P-Please. It is important that he understands fully before h-he decides if he wants to go ahead with the t-treatment."  
  
"Okay." Gordon glanced at his father before he touched Virgil on the shoulder and managed to get his attention. He explained what he'd been told. "Have I covered everything Brains?"  
  
"Y-Yes."  
  
Do you understand, V? Gordon asked.  
  
Virgil nodded and looked at each member of his family. Tears began to run down his cheeks. "I c-can't take this any longer." He whimpered. "I'd do anything."  
  
Are you sure? Gordon felt he'd better double check.  
  
"Please. Do it now."  
  
Gordon stood back. "You heard him."  
  
"F-Fine." Brains pulled on a pair of hospital gloves. "Excuse me, Scott."  
  
Reluctantly Scott released his grip and got to his feet. He noticed the white marks he left on Virgil's wrists as he massaged the feeling back into his own fingers. He found himself unable to watch the procedure.  
  
When Brains had finished he coaxed Virgil to lie back down on the bed.  
  
"Thanks." Virgil whispered and closed his eyes.  
  
Brains took his pulse. "He's fallen asleep." He eventually said.  
  
Jeff took a blanket from where it lay on the floor and draped it over his son. As he looked down on the sleeping form he found it hard to believe that this was the same person who'd been so distressed only moments earlier. He reached out and brushed some sweat-matted hair away from the peaceful face. "What now, Brains?" he asked quietly.  
  
"I-I'd like someone to stay with him for the first 12 hours." Brains said. "I'm not anticipating any p-problems, but I want to be sure."  
  
"I'll do that!" Scott, Gordon and Alan all volunteered.  
  
Jeff shook his head. "I'll take the first shift. Do you want us to move him to the sick bay?"  
  
"N-no. He's settled now. I-if we shift him we'll wake him."  
  
Jeff pulled the chair up beside the bed and settled down.  
  
The rest of the family quietly left the room.  
  
Once they were back in the hallway Scott caught Brains by the shoulder. "Brains! I'm sorry I snapped at you then. I was worried."  
  
Brains patted the hand that held his shoulder tightly. "I kn-know, Scott. I'm worried too..." 


	52. Eighty Three

Eighty Three - BF  
  
Virgil woke up, feeling refreshed and more than a little relieved that, temporarily at least, the tinnitus had gone away. It was unnerving for the world to be completely silent, but compared to the constant noise he'd been experiencing over the last couple of days, silence was infinitely preferable.  
  
As he got out of bed he knocked a hardback book off his bedside table. It silently hit the floor and lay there, pages exposed. He picked it up and put it back on the table.  
  
When he turned back to face the door he was startled to see Scott was standing there.  
  
Sorry. Scott signed. I was in the chair. How are you feeling?   
  
"Better now that that noise has gone away."  
  
Brains says it'll only be temporary relief. About 24 hours.   
  
Virgil made a face. "I know."  
  
V. Did you understand what Brains said this morning?   
  
"That the medication may permanently affect my hearing? I understood. I had no choice. It was either that or go crazy."  
  
Just so long as you understand, if it happens again.   
  
"I'll hold out as long as I can, but if it happens again, and it's that bad, I'll do it again."  
  
It's really that bad?   
  
"It's really that bad."  
  
Scott looked at Virgil in sympathy. I wish I could help.   
  
Virgil gave a wry grin. "So do I. Well I guess I'd better do something practical while I'm still able to. There was some maintenance I was going to do in Thunderbird Two."  
  
The family's started eating dinner. Are you going to join us?   
  
"Is that the time?" Virgil looked at his watch. "Six o-clock! How long was I asleep for?"  
  
Ten hours.   
  
"I guess I needed it. Now I'm hungry."  
  
Scott smiled. They always say that's a good sign.   
  
***  
  
Dinner was a frustrating time for Virgil. If he wanted to have a conversation with anyone apart from his brothers he had to get one of them to translate for him. Several times he was informed that he was shouting, seemingly unable to be able to moderate his speech volume. He gave up and took to signing everything himself, which limited his conversation opportunities while he was trying to eat. He eventually retreated into his shell, ignoring his family.  
  
Jeff looked across at Brains. "Can't you come up with anything to help us communicate with him?"  
  
"I've g-got a few ideas." Brains admitted. "B-But they'll take a bit of t-time before they'll be fully operational."  
  
"Well give it top priority." Jeff looked over at his middle son who was morosely finishing his dessert. "For all our sakes."  
  
Scott leant over and touched Virgil on the arm. Do you want to go and do that work on Thunderbird Two now? I'll come and help.   
  
Virgil dropped his spoon onto his plate. Sounds good. Thanks Scott.   
  
The rest of the family watched them leave.   
  
"At least he's trying to be useful." Tin-Tin said optimistically. "He's not giving up."  
  
"Thank heavens for that." Grandma Tracy agreed. "He needs some sense of normalcy..."  
  
***  
  
Virgil automatically walked into the lounge and took up position with his back to the painting of the rocket.   
  
Scott was making his way to the passenger lift when something about Virgil's expression made him hesitate. Instead of tipping backwards, his brother's attention was arrested by something in the room.   
  
Scott watched Virgil's expression as a range of emotions flashed across his face. Then, brushing past Scott as if he weren't there, the younger man hurried from the lounge.  
  
"Virgil!" Scott called after him uselessly. He heard his brother's bedroom door close.   
  
Curious as to what had caused this unexpected reaction, Scott stepped over to the painting and, as Virgil had done, placed his back to it.  
  
As he looked in the direction that Virgil had been gazing, Scott struggled to make his eyes focus against the backlight through the patio doors, and briefly wondered if this was as good as his vision was going to get.  
  
Suddenly he could see it. It wasn't as if the object suddenly came into focus, it was more of a realisation of what Virgil must have seen.  
  
The piano.  
  
He hurried to Virgil's bedroom and slid open the door.  
  
Virgil was sitting there, sketchbook in hand, drawing frantically with a piece of black charcoal.  
  
Are you okay? Scott asked.  
  
Virgil saw him, but didn't see the question. He angrily threw the pad onto his bed. Why is life so unfair?   
  
I don't know V. I've asked myself that many times, especially over this past year.   
  
You're probably the only one who understands what I'm going through. Virgil said heatedly.  
  
Maybe. Scott picked up the sketchpad. The picture was dark in colour and dark in subject. A bird of prey with villainous claws and beak was carrying a female form into a lightning ripped storm cloud. From the female's limp hand a lyre threatened to fall into what appeared to be going to be a boiling ocean.  
  
Scott dropped the book back down without comment.  
  
Do you know what I can hear now? At this moment? Virgil asked.  
  
Scott shook his head.  
  
Nothing! Not a sound! All my life I've had some sound about me, usually the sound of brother's yelling. Scott gave a small smile at the thought. Even in situations where there was nothing to make a sound I could still hear something. My heartbeat, clothes rustling, wind, leaves. Something! I've always been able to hear music of some kind or another. I could hum to myself, or imagine... And now nothing. And what do I have to look forward too? Noise! Unbearable, unending noise! He grabbed at his ears as if he were trying to shut the sound out.  
  
What does it sound like? Scott asked.  
  
Imagine you're still sitting on the sofa under Thunderbird Three and Alan sets off her jets. Virgil grimaced. And that's a good day. I think it's getting worse, not better.   
  
I wish I could help. Scott said helplessly.  
  
Virgil took a deep breath. You can do something for me...   
  
Sure.   
  
Under my bed. There's a box...   
  
Scott got onto his hands and knees and looked. He pulled out a cardboard box and set it on the bed. Is this it?   
  
Yes.   
  
What's in it? Scott pulled back a flap.  
  
Virgil slapped a hand down, pinning the flaps so that they couldn't be opened. "Don't look in there!" He said out loud. He curled his hand into a fist and stared at the box. "I want you to destroy it."  
  
Scott stood back. Destroy it? Are you sure?   
  
Virgil nodded, his eyes closed as if in pain when he spoke. "I'm sure."  
  
Now? Scott had to repeat the question when Virgil opened his eyes again.  
  
Now!   
  
Okay. Scott picked up the box and then put it down again. Are you going to head down to Thunderbird Two?   
  
Virgil shook his head. I think I'll try to get some more sleep while I'm still able to.   
  
Can I get you anything?   
  
Virgil shook his head again.  
  
Okay. Scott looked back at the box. Are you absolutely sure about this?   
  
Just get it out of here.   
  
Sleep well. Scott picked up the box and left the room.  
  
He met up with his father in the hallway. "What have you got there?" Jeff asked.  
  
"I don't know. Virgil wouldn't let me look. He wants me to destroy it."  
  
"Destroy it?" Jeff said warily. "Where was it?"  
  
"Under his bed."  
  
"Bring it into my room, Scott. I think we should look at what's in there." 


	53. Eighty Four

Eighty Four - BF  
  
In Jeff's bedroom, Scott placed the box on a chair but didn't open it. "Do you know what's in here?"  
  
"I've got an idea. I hope I'm wrong. How was he when you left?"  
  
"Pretty uptight. You know how he was going to work on Thunderbird Two..." Jeff nodded. Scott continued on. "We never got there. He saw the piano and rushed straight back to his room. When I got there he was drawing a picture. My eyesight's still not good, but I'm pretty sure it was an eagle, carrying off a lady holding a lyre. She was dead and they were flying into a thunderstorm."   
  
"Or it could be a Thunderbird carrying off the Muse of Music. So he thinks he's lost his music forever?"  
  
"That's the way I see it." Scott sighed. "He's convinced that his hearing's getting worse, not better."  
  
Jeff pulled back the flaps of the box. It was filled with papers. He removed the top one and studied it. "I thought so. It's his music certificates."  
  
"What! But he worked so hard for those. Why..." then Scott stopped. "No. I understand. I did something similar." Jeff looked at him in surprise. "I threw my pilot's wings away." Scott explained. "But why destroy his certificates? It's as if he's given up! I didn't do that!"  
  
"Excuse me!" Jeff said wryly. "Who decided he was going to spend the rest of his life in bed on his first day in rehabilitation?"  
  
Scott looked sheepish. "I said that to the wrong person didn't I. Okay. So maybe I did give up, but I knew my blindness was permanent. He's going to get his hearing back!"  
  
"But now he knows that there's every chance that it won't be as good as it was. His music is so important to him..." Jeff removed more papers from the box. "They're all here. Trinity College... American Academy of Music... Hang on. What's this?" He pulled out another piece of paper. This wasn't a music certificate. It was a painting.  
  
Scott looked over his father's shoulder at the painting. "Isn't that Ma? Is that something written there? I can't read it."  
  
"It says 'Happy Birthday Ma. I'm sorry.' It's dated her birthday 2068." Jeff looked back into the box and removed another painting of his wife. "Same words, only this one was painted in 2067."  
  
"Huh?" Scott reached in and retrieved more pictures. Some were done in oils, some water colours and others were drawn in other media. "These are all done in different years aren't they?"  
  
"Yes." Jeff started to lay them on his bed, in chronological order. When he'd finished he had 22 paintings spread out. The style changed from a childish scrawl to an impressionist style to almost photographic quality. Each picture was a representation of Lucille. Each picture contained those same words. 'Happy Birthday Ma. I'm sorry'.  
  
"This is amazing." Scott said. "You can see how he's developed over the years. Starting when he was five..."  
  
"The year she died." Jeff said quietly.  
  
"... Right through to last year. They must be his birthday present to her. But why only 22? Did he stop doing them?"  
  
Jeff looked through the certificates in his hand. "There's 23, Scott." He placed the final picture at the end of the series.  
  
Scott squinted at the words on the corner. "They're not the same words are they? I can't read them. I'll have to talk to him about his penmanship when he's feeling better."  
  
"No, they're not the same." Jeff swallowed before reading them out. "'Happy Birthday Ma. Please forgive me.' It's dated 2069"  
  
"After we opened the police file."  
  
"I can't believe how blind we all were." Jeff sank into a chair beside his bed and surveyed the artwork. "We should have realised he felt like this."  
  
"Now what do I do?" Scott asked. "I feel as if I'm betraying his trust, but I can't destroy all this! But I told him I would. What am I going to do?"  
  
"Get another box. We'll put everything into that one and I'll store it in my cupboard. You can destroy this one..."  
  
"...And if he asks I can say I've destroyed the box." Scott finished. "You want me to lie to him?"  
  
"No I want you to tell him a half truth. And when he's better you can tell him the whole truth. With any luck he'll thank you."  
  
Scott was silent for a moment. "I've only just realised... Tonight was the first time he'd been into the lounge since the accident... apart from the debriefing and we didn't have the prognosis then. He's been avoiding the piano."  
  
"He's good at hiding his emotions. He's having a harder time with this than we've realised."   
  
"Do you think...?" Scott began.  
  
Jeff waited. "Do I think what?"  
  
"Do you think this is my fault? That the tinnitus is a result of that 'emotional disruption' that the Professor was talking about? The explosion may just have been the catalyst."  
  
"I wish I could say 'no it's not your fault'. But I don't know, Scott... It probably is a result of physical rather than emotional trauma, otherwise why didn't it happen sooner?"  
  
"But you don't know..."  
  
"No I don't..."  
  
Saddened, Scott went to the storeroom and got another box. When he returned his father was still seated in the chair, mulling things over in his mind. "Scott?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You said you'd thrown your wings away. How?"  
  
"I just threw them, in my room. I couldn't see where they'd fallen and at the time I didn't care. They'd gone down behind a chest of drawers. Virgil helped me find them last week, just before I tried to talk to him."  
  
"You'll have to try to talk to him again, Scott."  
  
"Me! Why me?"  
  
Jeff waved his hands. "Because you can communicate with him! By the time I've spelt out every word, we'll both have forgotten what I was talking about."  
  
"Oh." Scott said quietly. "I'll do my best. But the hard part will be finding the right time to talk. Then the next hard part will be deciding what to say."  
  
"You could start with 'I think I understand what you're going through'. You probably do, more so than any of us, no matter how good our imagination is. At least you'll both be on an equal footing."  
  
"Yes." Scott said reluctantly.   
  
"Or, as another angle of attack. You can thank him for helping you find your wings..."  
  
"...And say how glad I am that I hadn't lost them permanently. At least that'd be the truth." Scott heaved his shoulders in a deep sigh. "I guess after all the support he's been to me over the last year, it's the least I can do. I'm not looking forward to it though."  
  
"I know. Sometimes the most important tasks are the most difficult."  
  
"Just another job for International Rescue... Only this time I'm going solo..." 


	54. Eighty Five

Eighty Five - BF  
  
At breakfast time the next day Scott went to get Virgil. Out of force of habit he knocked on his brother's door. Then he opened it slowly. The room was dark enough that he had to wait a minute until his eyes adjusted to the gloom.  
  
It looked empty.  
  
Mystified Scott walked over to the bed.   
  
It looked as if it hadn't been slept in.  
  
He checked the ensuite, and studio.  
  
No sign of Virgil.  
  
Frowning he stood in the middle of the room and looked about him.  
  
He was about to operate the vibrating mechanism on Virgil's watch, to alert Virgil to the fact that someone was trying to contact him, when he saw the timepiece on the bedside table.  
  
He picked it up.  
  
Now he was starting to get worried.  
  
He walked quickly down to the dining room.  
  
"Has anyone seen Virgil?" he forced himself to sound calm.  
  
The family looked up. "Not since you two went to work on Thunderbird Two." Alan informed him.  
  
"We didn't get there." Scott said. "He said he was going to try to get some more sleep while he was still able to. But his bed doesn't look slept in."  
  
Jeff looked up sharply.  
  
"What time did you leave him?" Gordon asked.  
  
"About seven o-clock."  
  
"Had anyone seen him after seven?" Jeff asked.  
  
The only replies he received were negative murmurings and the shaking of heads.  
  
"Try his watch." Tin-Tin suggested. "The vibrating setting should at least get his attention."  
  
Scott held it up. "He'd left it on his bedside table."  
  
"Right! He's probably gone for a walk and lost track of the time. We'll start a search." Jeff said with authority. "Scott you check Thunderbird Two's bay. Alan you do Thunderbird Three's. Gordon, Thunderbird One. Ma you search inside the house. Kyrano you do the grounds. Tin-Tin. You check the power plant. Brains. You can do the maintenance rooms. Everyone! As soon as you've finished your area, see if you can help someone else."  
  
No one bought the 'gone for a walk' excuse. The power plant and maintenance rooms were not places where you would 'go for a walk'. They all scattered to their appointed zones.  
  
Scott was the last to leave. "Where are you going to check?"  
  
"I'll check the path to the west." Jeff said quietly.  
  
Scott wasn't altogether surprised. To the west there were cliffs. Cliffs that dropped down to jagged rocks and pounding seas. "I hope you don't find him."  
  
"So do I, son. So do I."  
  
Scott shoved the image to the back of his mind and headed to his search area. 


	55. Eighty Six

Eighty Six - BF  
  
Thunderbird Two's hanger was a big cavern. The tiniest sound would echo and reflect off the walls, magnifying and being magnified 100 times.  
  
Scott tried yelling, hoping that maybe Virgil would feel the vibrations of the sound or somehow realise that someone was looking for him. When the sounds had died away he waited, listening hopefully.  
  
The hanger was as silent as a tomb.  
  
Scott told himself off for using that metaphor and decided that Thunderbird Two would be a logical place to start.  
  
Strangely, rather than being raised on her hydraulic legs, ready to accept a pod, the giant aeroplane was sitting on the hanger floor. Scott did a quick circuit of the craft without seeing anything else out of the ordinary. He let himself inside.  
  
He checked the lab and the sickbay before hesitantly taking the lift up to the flight deck.  
  
He held his breath as the door slid back.  
  
His eyes scanned the cabin until they fell on a half-hidden body.  
  
He raised his hand.  
  
"Everyone! I've got him. He's working in Thunderbird Two."  
  
His father's face appeared on the tiny screen of the wristwatch communicator. "Good. Thanks Scott. Let him know breakfast is ready will you."  
  
"Sure." Scott smiled as he heard his father's voice betray the relief he was feeling. He walked over to the figure who had his head stuck inside part of the navigation system. "Virgil." He tapped him on the leg.  
  
Virgil jumped and banged his head on the inside of the cabinet. "I wish people would stop doing that." He grumbled. "Now I've got another bruise."  
  
Scott resisted the desire to throw his arms around his grumpy brother. And how else are we meant to get your attention?   
  
Virgil shrugged. "I don't know." He admitted. "Maybe set my watch vibrating?" He felt his wrist and then looked down at where his watch should have been. "Bother. I must have forgotten to put it on after I had my shower."  
  
Scott held it out to him.  
  
"Oh." Virgil said sheepishly. "Thanks."  
  
How're you feeling? Scott had to repeat the question after Virgil had finished putting the watch where it belonged on his wrist.  
  
"Fine... at the moment." Virgil looked closer at his brother. "How are you? You look like you've seen a ghost."  
  
I've got a bit of a headache. Scott lied, glad that Virgil was having to look at his signing hands rather than his now flushing face.   
  
"Have you had anything to eat yet?"  
  
No. I came looking for you. I was surprised that you weren't in your room.   
  
"I woke up at about 4 o-clock and decided that I'd had enough sleep. So I thought I'd come down here and do some maintenance. I guess I lost track of the time."  
  
How's the medication holding up?   
  
Virgil shook his head. "It's starting to wear off. But at least the tinnitus is bearable at the moment."  
  
How about having breakfast and then finishing this off after.   
  
Virgil negated the idea. "I want to get this finished while I can still concentrate. Breakfast doesn't require quite so much thought." He said with a little smile.  
  
Then let me help you.   
  
"I'd appreciate that. Thanks."  
  
Between the pair of them they'd finished the task within half an hour.  
  
Virgil stood and stretched. "I'm glad that's done. One less thing to worry about." He started tidying up the tools.  
  
V! Scott tried to get his attention again. V. Do me a favour will you. Keep your watch on in future. At least then we'll have a chance to find you. It's not as if we can wander around the place yelling for you.   
  
"Yeah. Okay. I was in such a hurry to get down here I forgot this morning. Sorry."  
  
That's okay. Just remember in the future.   
  
"Why? Are you worried that I'll wander away and jump off the cliffs or something?" Virgil laughed. Then he saw Scott's face redden and realisation dawned. "Scott! ... You didn't! ... I wouldn't!"  
  
Sorry V. But you've had a pretty rough 24 hours. We didn't know how bad you were this morning.   
  
"We! You mean everyone thought..." Virgil sat down on a passenger seat in shock at the idea.  
  
Well maybe not everyone... But I know Father...   
  
"...Who organised a search of the island?"  
  
Scott nodded.  
  
Virgil groaned. "Great. Now everyone's going to be watching me like I'm a candidate for a mental institution or something."  
  
Scott crouched down so that he was at Virgil's eye level. We were worried.   
  
"I know. And I appreciate the concern. But I'm not suicidal."  
  
You sounded pretty desperate yesterday morning. You said you'd do anything...  
  
"...But not that!"  
  
I'm sorry V. You weren't in your room... Your bed hadn't been slept in... You'd left your watch behind... I jumped to the wrong conclusion, and so did Father.   
  
"Really?"  
  
Scott nodded. He was searching the cliffs himself.   
  
"And sent you to search Thunderbird Two in case I'd done myself in here."  
  
Scott nodded again, looking down in embarrassment. His gaze fell onto the bruises on Virgil's arms. Sorry I had to hang on so tight yesterday.   
  
Virgil rubbed at his wrists and then looked at the marks on them. "Thanks for your help." He gave a rueful smile. "You've got a good grip. Did you think I was going to hit you?"  
  
No. The thought never crossed my mind. Scott said truthfully. But I was worried you'd hurt yourself.   
  
"Well I did give myself a headache, and a bruise." Virgil pulled his hair back out of the way and Scott could see the discolouration on his skin. Then Virgil sighed. "You look hungry. I guess we'd better head up and get breakfast. And everyone will be there looking to see if I'm all right or if I'm going to slit my wrists with the butter knife. How embarrassing." 


	56. Eighty Seven

Eighty Seven - BF  
  
Jeff was trying to work at his desk when he heard the sound of a drill. A first he ignored it, but soon his curiosity got the better of him.  
  
In the hallway he found Virgil busy with a toolkit, attaching something that looked like a touch plate, to the wall beside his bedroom door. Jeff tapped him on the shoulder.  
  
As usual Virgil jumped, but didn't complain. He spoke, signing at the same time to give his father a chance to learn some sign language. Hi. Am I disturbing you?   
  
W-H-A-T A-R...   
  
What am I doing? Virgil guessed correctly. Hang on a moment and I'll hopefully be able to show you. The drill made quick work of the last screw and he stepped back. Go into my room and I'll give this a test drive.   
  
Jeff complied and waited, watching Virgil through the open door. Virgil positioned himself so that he was able to see inside the room and then pressed the touch plate. A red light above the door lit up.  
  
Jeff gave the thumbs up signal.  
  
I've got fed up with everyone just barging in. Now they can 'knock'. Virgil grinned.  
  
C-L-E-V-E-R.   
  
Virgil shrugged. It's not an original idea, but why try to reinvent the wheel. Mind you I'm sure Brains could come up with improvements. Now it just needs the finishing touch. He placed an elegantly lettered sign above the touch plate. 'To knock press here.' Underneath he added another sign. 'Then wait till you're invited in!' He winked at his father. Got to keep them in their place.   
  
Jeff looked at the light. You K-N-O-W W-H-A-T... he gave up finger spelling and mimed writing on a piece of paper. Virgil got him a pad along with a pen. "You know what your brothers are going to say about having a red light above your bedroom door." Jeff scribbled.  
  
So let them. Virgil shrugged. I won't be able to hear them anyway. And you know that red's a better colour at night, not so hard on the eyes.   
  
Jeff nodded his agreement. "How's things at the moment?" he wrote.  
  
Actually not too bad. I could live with this, if it would stay at this volume. Not that I can do anything about it for the next... he looked at his watch... 20 hours anyway.   
  
"I hope you don't have to."  
  
Me too. For many reasons.   
  
Jeff nodded his understanding. "Brains is having a video conference with Bunsen. Coming up with an alternative."  
  
Virgil pressed his hands together in a gesture of prayer and looked heavenwards. Then he grinned at his father.  
  
Jeff mimicked the gesture. Then, wishing he were able to communicate more fully, reluctantly returned the pad and pen to the desk. See you.   
  
See you. Virgil repeated.  
  
Jeff left the room, determined to learn a few more words of sign language before the day was over.  
  
Virgil went back into the hall to check that the screws were done up tightly. For the second time in ten minutes he jumped when someone tapped him on the shoulder. "Brains! I wish you'd come up with a better way of getting my attention!"  
  
Brains grinned and beckoned. Virgil took the hint and followed him to the lab. Once there Brains pulled out a stool and indicated that Virgil should sit on it. Then he himself sat on another stool so that they were facing each other, but the corner of the lab bench was between them.  
  
Virgil looked at him with curiosity.  
  
Brains picked up a pair of spectacles and handed them to Virgil.  
  
"It's my ears that aren't working, not my eyes." Virgil reminded him.  
  
Brains said something and guided Virgil's hands so that he put the spectacles on.  
  
"Do you u-understand me?" The words suddenly appeared in front of Virgil's eyes.  
  
"Whoa!" Virgil got such a shock that he nearly fell of the stool. "Brains! Did you say that?"  
  
"What d-did I say?"  
  
"'Do you understand me?' and then 'What did I say?'."  
  
"So you are reading my w-words."  
  
Virgil nodded in amazement. "This is great! How'd you do it?"  
  
"Th-there's two microphones by the hinges, they pick up the voice o-of the speaker, and then translate the speech into text which is p-projected onto the lenses. I've programmed it with each family member's voice pattern so it should have close to a 100 percent success rate. If you talk to anyone else it'll probably be about 95 percent accurate. It should give the impression th-that the text is floating about a metre away."  
  
"Yeah. It's almost as if I could reach out and touch it."  
  
"It's an idea similar to the old virtual reality glasses. Y-You might say I've evolved them into V-Virgil Reality." Brains laughed at his joke.  
  
"It's amazing! It even picks up your stutter."  
  
"D-Does it? I haven't been able to try them out myself. I c-can't see to read without my spectacles and I can't wear my spectacles and those glasses at the s-same time. So I wasn't sure they would w-work. I can remove the s-stutter."  
  
"Don't. It wouldn't be you talking if you did."  
  
"I w-wish you'd tell Bunny that!" Brains sighed. "He keeps on at me to let him 'fix it'. Are you h-happy with the Comm-specs?"  
  
"Brains, I couldn't be happier!"  
  
"Good." Brains picked up a box the size of a pack of cards. "Clip that to your belt. It's th-the processing unit. I h-haven't had the time to miniaturise the components down to a size that would fit totally onto the spectacles."  
  
Virgil obeyed. "What's its range?"  
  
"About t-two metres. I decided that sp-spectacles would be the best option for you, because then you'll still be able to l-look at the speaker and see their f-facial reactions."  
  
"You're amazing. I'm impressed... and grateful."  
  
"I've programmed it to recognise y-your voice pattern so it doesn't translate your speech. There's also only a 90 degree scanning angle, so you won't h-hear anyone behind you."  
  
"So they can still creep up on me." Virgil sounded slightly disappointed.  
  
Brains smiled. "N-Not if you wear this." He handed over a bracelet.  
  
Virgil took it reluctantly. "I'm getting all the accessories am I?"  
  
"It's a m-modified version of Scott's 'Sonar Sender', but instead of emitting audio signals, it will vibrate. L-Like the 'Sonar Sender', I've tuned it to receive signals from each person's w-watch, so you'll know who's nearby."  
  
"What do you mean, like the 'Sonar Sender'?" Virgil asked.  
  
"Didn't Scott tell you?" Brains was grinning. "Each of your w-watches would send an identifying signal, wh-which would in turn cause the 'Sonar Sender' to emit an identifying beep."  
  
"The sneak. No he didn't tell me, I just thought he recognised our footsteps. I'll bet he didn't tell Gordon either. So this bracelet will vibrate differently for each person?"  
  
"Th-That's right, in Morse code. If you get three dots it's S for Scott. A dash and four dots to make a B for me, G for Gordon, J for John, A for Alan, T for Tin-Tin, K for Kyrano..." he ticked the list off. "F f-for your father..."  
  
"And Grandma? You've used G on Gordon."  
  
"H for H-Head of the family."  
  
Virgil laughed.  
  
"O for Bunny, L for Lady Penelope, P for P-Parker... H-Have I missed anyone?"  
  
"No. I think that's it. Whatever you do, don't tell Scott. I might be able to get my own back."  
  
"Th-There's a button here..." Brains pointed it out, "...that you push when you want to stop th-the signal. There's a plain paper b-band around the outside, so that you can decorate it however you wish, t-to make it look less utilitarian."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"It was T-Tin-Tin who did the work on it, and the d-decoration was her idea." Then Brains smiled. "It's nice t-to be able to talk to you again." He said shyly.  
  
"It's nice to 'hear' you. As much as I love my brothers, sometimes it's nice to talk to other people."  
  
"How's the t-tinnitus today?"  
  
"Not too bad. The volume varies - as you've no doubt realised."  
  
"Bunny's trying to c-come up with a s-solution that's a little less... drastic."  
  
Virgil's mood darkened "I wouldn't complain if he did. It's a little frightening to know that my only options are to either put up with the noise, or risk ruining my hearing for ever."  
  
"And if it gets th-that bad again, wh-what do you want us to do?"  
  
Virgil sighed. "I've got no option. You've got my permission to do it again."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
Virgil nodded. "As much as I hate the idea, I am sure."  
  
"I-I discussed the possibility of sedation with Bunny, but we came to the conclusion th-that all we would achieve would be to render you unconscious a period of time. When you awoke the problem would st-still be there."  
  
"Or it might be better. I've noticed the tinnitus can change quite dramatically over 24 hours. Do you think next time, if there is a next time, we could try the sedation first? It'd at least allow the healing process to continue on for the day. Then, when I wake up, we can decide then."  
  
"If th-that's what you want."  
  
"It's at least an alternative."   
  
"Have you any th-thoughts on any other equipment that would make th-things easier for you? What do you find m-most difficult? If you c-can give me some ideas..."  
  
"I can't think of anything off the top of my head, Brains. Communication and not being startled every time someone comes up behind me were the big ones, and you've done something about them. I'll see how I go and let you know if I think of anything..." the bracelet on Virgil's wrist began to vibrate - dash dash dot. "Gordon." He turned and faced his brother.  
  
How'd you know?   
  
"Magic." Virgil grabbed Gordon by the wrists. "Say something."  
  
"What? How can he understand me without me signing Brains? And why's he wearing specs?"  
  
"Because these specs are another of Brains' miracle inventions. I can read every word you're saying."  
  
"Read?"  
  
Virgil nodded. "Read."  
  
"Really? Can I try?"  
  
Virgil removed the Comm-specs and handed them to his brother.  
  
"Can you see anything?" Virgil asked.  
  
"No. Nothing." Gordon said, and then "I saw that!"  
  
"Can you s-see my words?" Brains asked.  
  
"Yeah I can." Gordon reached out as if he were feeling for the words. "I can see my words too. It's weird."  
  
"I'm getting left out again." Virgil complained. "I've got no idea what you two are saying. Can I have them back please?" Gordon handed the Comm-specs back to his brother.  
  
Brains tapped Virgil on the shoulder. Virgil turned so that he was facing the scientist. "I'd like to try another cat scan after d-dinner, if you are willing."  
  
"As long as you give me good news, not a problem." 


	57. Eighty Eight

Eighty Eight - BF  
  
"Hey Tin-Tin! Wait up!"  
  
Tin-Tin stopped walking down the hallway and turned. She smiled but didn't speak until he was closer. "Virgil! How are you?"  
  
" Fine. How're you feeling?"  
  
"After three days in bed being pampered by my Father and your Grandmother, wonderful" She gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for saving my life."  
  
"Not a problem. Just another day at the office, I've got to keep my hand in somehow."  
  
"Brains' Comm-specs spectacles seem to be working well."  
  
"They're great! I'm getting a little teasing from Alan and Gordon about getting old, but I can take it." He held up his arm with the bracelet. "And thanks for working on this. If I get my hearing back I might keep it on. It's great knowing who's trying to sneak up behind me."  
  
"When you get your hearing back!" She corrected him. "You haven't decorated it yet."  
  
"No. I can't make up my mind what to do."  
  
"Your brothers would probably suggest that you paint it pink."  
  
"My brothers have suggested that I paint little pansies all round it, just for wearing it."  
  
"And if anyone else suggested that, your brothers would be the first one to jump to your defence."  
  
"Yeah they would." He admitted. "I'm lucky they're there."  
  
"Yes you are. We all are." Then she frowned. "How are you really, Virgil. I heard things weren't too good a couple of nights ago."  
  
"I'm fine now. The tinnitus is bearable."  
  
"I can't imagine what it's like for you."  
  
"Terrible." He said honestly. "But things could be worse. You could have been killed."  
  
"It's thanks to you and Scott that I wasn't." She indicated the lounge. "I'm going to get some sun. Care to join me?"  
  
The expression on his face clouded over when he saw where she indicated. "No. You go on though. I'll see you later."  
  
***   
  
Scott was standing on the patio, looking down into the pool. His thoughts though, were pondering on how and when he was going to talk to Virgil.  
  
He jumped when someone dug him in the ribs.  
  
"Yes!" Gordon crowed. "At last I've done it!"  
  
"I'm pleased for you." Scott grumbled as he rubbed his bruised sides.  
  
"How come I can creep up on you now that you've got your sight," Gordon asked, "but I wasn't able to when you were blind?"  
  
"Because One: I was thinking, not listening. Two: When I was blind I used my hearing more. And Three:" Scott took his 'Sonar Sender' out of his pocket. He didn't know why he still carried it, he just liked to have it close. "Put the ear pieces in your ear." Gordon complied. "Hear that beep?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"That's a signal from your watch." Scott looked past Gordon's shoulder to Alan and Tin-Tin walking towards them. "You should be hearing another couple of different beeps now."  
  
"I can! How do you know?"  
  
"Because that's the signals from Tin-Tin and Alan's watch. Everyone's watch has a different signal, and as soon as you got close enough I would hear your signal."  
  
"So that must be how Virgil knew I was behind him!" Gordon exclaimed as he handed back the 'Sonar Sender'. "His bracelet must tell him who's nearby somehow." A sly look came over his face. "Hey! Let's all swap watches for a bit."  
  
"Don't you dare!" Scott threatened.  
  
"Why not! It's only a joke. You didn't mind me trying to sneak up on you when you were blind!"  
  
"I was accepting my blindness by then and so were you. Virgil's still coming to terms with being deaf. Don't do anything that might upset him!"  
  
"Come on, Scott. Lighten up. He's okay with this."  
  
"Are you sure about that, Alan? When was the last time you saw him in the lounge?"  
  
"That was..." Alan began confidently and then he frowned... "I don't know."  
  
"He was in here for the debriefing." Gordon said.  
  
"And since then?" Scott asked.  
  
They were silent for a moment as they thought.  
  
"But why?" Tin-Tin asked. "I noticed that he seemed a little reticent about coming outside, but I didn't think it was because he didn't like the lounge."  
  
"It's not the lounge, he doesn't like." Scott said quietly. "It's what he can't do in there anymore that's upsetting him."  
  
"Huh?" Alan asked.  
  
"Oh!" Tin-Tin's face cleared. "I see."  
  
"I don't." Gordon said. "What are you getting at?"  
  
"The piano, Gordon." Tin-Tin exclaimed. "He can't play the piano!"  
  
"Of course!" Alan sagged against the banister. "He can't hear the music."  
  
Gordon slapped himself on the forehead. "How thick am I? I should have realised."  
  
"So take it easy on him, okay." Scott ordered. "When it's obvious that he's getting his hearing back then you can play your sick little jokes on him. But till then watch yourselves."  
  
"You'd think the nutty Professor would have at least worked out what was wrong by now." Alan said. 


	58. Eighty Nine

Sorry - I made up the Comm-specs. Glad you think they sound plausible. You never know, somewhere out there they may exist.  
  
Eighty Nine - BF  
  
"Come on Virgil, make your shot!"  
  
"I can't hear you, Alan, so I'm going to ignore you."  
  
"How come you knew I said something then?"  
  
Virgil looked at his youngest brother. "I could see your reflection in the glass of that picture." He lined up a red with the cue ball and took the shot.   
  
It bounced off the cushion and away from the pocket.  
  
Virgil sighed. "I wonder if deafness affects your co-ordination."  
  
"Scott managed to play when he was blind." Gordon noted.  
  
"Not always successfully." Scott reminded him.  
  
Alan sunk a ball and then walked around the table to play his next shot. "Maybe it's your glasses." He suggested as he lined up the shot. It missed the pocket.  
  
"I don't know if I want to take them off." Virgil said reluctantly. "I can't stand the thought of you guys plotting something and me not knowing about it."  
  
"I wouldn't worry about that." Gordon said. "We'd only have to stand behind you and you wouldn't know we were talking anyway."  
  
"True." Virgil turned off the processor and placed it and the Comm-specs on the card table. "That's better. Give my eyes a rest." The shot went in. "That must be the problem." He eyed the table and then decided on his next shot. He leant over the table to take it.  
  
The klaxon went off.  
  
Alan dropped his cue into the rack and ran out the door with Scott and Gordon close on his heels.  
  
The ball went in the pocket.  
  
"I'm on a roll now!" Virgil smiled and straightened up. His smile disappeared as he looked around the room finding it devoid of brothers.  
  
He dropped the cue on the table and leant on the edge gripping it tightly. "It had better be an emergency." He muttered. "If it's a joke, it's not funny." He picked up his Comm-specs and shoved them into a pocket of his trousers before heading out of the room.  
  
As he'd expected everyone was in the lounge. He stood in the shadows of the doorway and observed the activity.   
  
His father was saying something, obviously issuing instructions.  
  
Scott nodded, replied, and rotated into Thunderbird One's hanger.  
  
Alan was looking at John's portrait and said something.  
  
Brains and Tin-Tin nodded their heads in agreement.  
  
Gordon listened intently, made some comment, listened some more, agreed about something and then took up his position, Virgil's position, with his back to the painting. He tipped backwards and slipped out of sight.  
  
Virgil, head down, retreated to his room.  
  
From his vantage point in the hallway, Kyrano watched him go. He could see that Virgil was feeling this more than he was letting on. He resolved to try in some small way to help.  
  
***  
  
Virgil stood at his window. From here he could see the swimming pool and the end of the runway. He pressed the palms of his hands against the pane of glass and looked out. He watched as the pool retracted, the water lapping gently as it drained into a hidden reservoir.  
  
He felt the vibrations from Thunderbird One's motors before he saw the red nose cone appear in the hole. He closed his eyes as the rocket plane flared skyward and waited until he no longer felt the vibrations of the window before he opened them again.  
  
Thunderbird One was already only a dot in the sky. He watched it change direction from vertical to horizontal flight.   
  
Now he redirected his attention to the end of the runway. Thunderbird Two was already there, tilting in readiness for lift off. He imagined the conversation that was going on between Gordon and his father.  
  
"Thunderbird Two requesting clearance to launch."  
  
"Thunderbird Two, you are clear to go. Good Luck."  
  
The blast of the tail rockets lit up the rear of the great green transporter and it powered up and away from Tracy Island.  
  
It was well away above the Pacific Ocean by the time the sound waves caused the window to vibrate.  
  
Virgil snapped the blinds shut and picked up a sketchpad.  
  
He stared at the pad. Twice he moved as if he were going to mark its unblemished top page, but hesitated before his pencil touched the paper.  
  
He dropped the pad onto his desk, threw himself onto his bed and stared at the ceiling.  
  
Was this what life was going to be like forever after?  
  
The red light above his door blinked.  
  
If there'd been a chance that it was one of his brothers he would have told whoever it was to go away, but since all his brothers were away from the island he felt he should at least make an effort to be civil.  
  
"Come in." He sat up so that his back was resting against his pillows.  
  
The door opened and framed Kyrano, holding a mug and a more delicate cup. The older man smiled gently and spoke.  
  
"Hang on Kyrano." Virgil felt in his pocket and retrieved the only communication link he had. He placed the Comm-specs on his face.  
  
"Do you understand me, Mister Virgil?"  
  
Virgil nodded.  
  
"I thought, perhaps, you might care for a hot chocolate."  
  
Virgil smiled. He had a weakness for Kyrano's hot chocolate drinks and Kyrano knew it. Maybe they weren't good for the waistline, but they were great for the mood, and right now Virgil felt he needed something to help him cheer up.  
  
"Kyrano, I'd love one. Have a seat," he offered. He accepted the steaming mug and sipped at the hot drink cautiously. "Mmn. After one of these I always think I should do three laps of the island." He looked up. "What's happening with the rescue?"  
  
Kyrano accepted the invitation of the chair and sipped at his own drink as he considered his reply. "There is a storm in the Atlantic Ocean. A fishing trawler is experiencing trouble. Five men's lives are at risk."  
  
"A capsize!" Virgil sat up. "But Thunderbird One won't be able to land anywhere! And we'll need Thunderbird Four! But Gordon can't pilot Thunderbird Four and Thunderbird Two!"  
  
"Mister Brains and Tin-Tin have also gone."  
  
"Is Tin-Tin piloting?" Virgil asked in concern.  
  
Kyrano nodded. "She has..."  
  
"She's had plenty of practise in the simulator, but not nearly enough actual experience in picking up Pod Four, especially in rough seas. One false move could lead to disaster..."  
  
"Mister Virgil..."  
  
"She's a good pilot, but it takes hours of training before you can safely retrieve the pod. She'd be not only risking her life, and also Gordon's, Brains' and anyone they rescue..." Virgil placed his mug on his bedside table.  
  
"But Mister Virgil..."  
  
"I should have gone." Virgil stood and began pacing up and down. "I've got the experience in retrieving the pod."  
  
"But your eardrums are not healed..."  
  
"I could have stayed in the sick bay until the retrieval and done that and then let Tin-Tin take over again..."  
  
"Mister Virgil..." Kyrano was finding it impossible to communicate, though whether that was due to Virgil's deafness or agitation he wasn't sure. He placed his cup to one side and stood.  
  
"Why didn't they get Tin-Tin to pilot Thunderbird One?"  
  
"Mister Virgil..."  
  
"Then Alan could pilot Thunderbird Two. He's at least got some experience in retrieving the pod. Why didn't they think of that!?"  
  
"Mister Virgil!" Kyrano intercepted the pacing man. "That is what they have done."  
  
"What?"  
  
"My Tin-Tin is piloting Thunderbird One." Kyrano said patiently. "Mister Alan is piloting Thunderbird Two. Mister Gordon will take charge of Thunderbird Four."  
  
"But I saw Gordon take the pilot chute to Thunderbird Two!"  
  
Kyrano nodded. "Mister Alan's uniform is in Thunderbird One. He had to get his spare uniform. Mister Gordon started the launch procedure while Mister Alan was getting changed."  
  
"And Gordon's uniform is where mine used to be..." Virgil sank onto the bed. "I'm an idiot. I should have realised that they'd think of that. It's not as if they've never had to deal with a mission without me before is it."  
  
Kyrano shook his head.  
  
"And I guess we'd all better get used to the idea."  
  
"Mister Virgil!" Kyrano said reproachfully. "Do not think like that."  
  
"Why not, Kyrano. It's a distinct possibility isn't it." Virgil made himself comfortable on the bed again and picked up his drink.  
  
Kyrano shook his head in exasperation and returned to his own seat.  
  
Virgil looked into his mug. "I'm sorry."  
  
"For what reason are you sorry?" Kyrano asked surprised.  
  
"For not letting you talk. You were trying to tell me what was going on and I got over excited."  
  
"Do not let it trouble you."  
  
Once again the light above the door flashed it's alert.  
  
"Come in." Virgil called.  
  
The door slid back revealing Jeff Tracy. His face held a sombre expression. "I thought you should know how the rescue is going."  
  
"Yes!" Virgil twisted round so he was seated on the edge of his bed.  
  
"Scott's just radioed in. The trawler had already sunk by the time Thunderbird One had arrived. There's no sign of a life raft or any survivors. Gordon's just gone down in Thunderbird Four to check out the trawler. But it looks as though this is a salvage mission rather than a rescue."  
  
The room was quiet when he'd finished.   
  
Every now and then, despite their advanced technology, International Rescue would fail in a rescue. And when that happened it affected every member of the team. From those on the front line who would feel the remorse of failure, to those at home who felt the guilt of being unable to help, it affected each individual.   
  
It would be a solemn household for the next day or so.  
  
"Puts your own problems into perspective doesn't it." Virgil said quietly.  
  
"Yes." Jeff agreed equally softly.  
  
Virgil downed the rest of his hot chocolate. This time it brought no sense of relief. "How'd Scott sound?"  
  
"Pretty down. You know how he gets. There was nothing we could have done, and from what I know they boat didn't have adequate life saving equipment, but still he's feeling it."  
  
"Yeah. I guess they... we all are."  
  
"I'd better get back... in case there's any further news." Jeff hesitated, as if he wanted to say something further, and then stepped back into the hallway.  
  
"I have work I must do." Kyrano said sadly. He rose and collected Virgil's mug. "Can I do anything else for you Mister Virgil."  
  
"Um, no thanks Kyrano. And thanks for the chocolate and the chat."  
  
Kyrano bowed low. "It was my pleasure." He retreated from the room.  
  
Virgil placed his Comm-specs back on his bedside table and sat in thought for a moment, then he clambered off his bed and went into his studio. He studied the blank canvas that sat on his easel and then began to draw... 


	59. Ninety

Ninety - BF  
  
Brains replaced the otoscope back on the tray and frowned.  
  
Virgil looked at him. "Can I put my specs back on?"  
  
Brains nodded.  
  
It was only the two of them in the infirmary.  
  
Virgil made sure the processing unit was turned on and then placed the Comm-specs back on his face. Then he looked back at Brains who still wore that troubled frown. "Well?"  
  
"Y-Your right eardrum has healed p-perfectly."  
  
"And the left?"  
  
"Is nearly h-healed over."  
  
"Which means that I should be hearing something by now."  
  
Brains nodded.  
  
"So why aren't I?"  
  
"I-I don't know Virgil. The audiogram sh-shows no ch-change f-from your last h-hearing t-test. W-We haven't found any sign of any ph-physiological injury. Ano-other option is that the c-cause is psychological."  
  
"Are you saying I'm crazy? And that I need to see a Shrink?"  
  
"No. I-I don't think you are crazy, but a Psychiatrist m-may be of some help."  
  
"But that's impossible! Not while I belong to International Rescue! Imagine it, 'I'll tell you everything except who I'm employed for, what my job is and how I was injured.' That'd really go down well." Virgil exclaimed.  
  
"I'm sure your father w-would make an exception."  
  
"He probably would. But I'm not prepared to be the one to risk International Rescue's security. Can't you or Professor Bunsen..."  
  
Brains shook his head. "I-I did little study in the psychological sciences and B-Bunny prefers to c-concentrate on the physical side of m-medicine."  
  
"So, unless whatever's screwing me up comes right, the deafness is permanent?"  
  
"U-Unless B-Bunny c-can c-come up with s-something... the r-reason for your deafness, and a c-cure... I-It seems so."  
  
Virgil took the glasses off again and rubbed at his eyes as if they were tired. "So... I guess its time to get on with life." He replaced the Comm-specs.  
  
"I-I'm s-sorry."  
  
Virgil gave him a small smile. "It's not your fault, Brains. I've been expecting this." He stood up. "No need to make a big issue over it. If anyone asks you can tell them the truth. Except the psychiatrist bit! If they thought that would bring about a cure they'd be on at me to take it, and we can't take that risk." He looked at his watch. "We were going to go for a run this afternoon. I'd better go get ready."  
  
"I-If th-there's anything I c-can do..."  
  
"You've done plenty, and I'm really grateful. It's all over to me now." Virgil gave a small smile. "Thanks, Brains." He walked out of the room, head held high.  
  
Brains stared after him and wondered what his friend's feelings truly were.  
  
***  
  
"You took your time." Alan told Virgil. "I thought you'd chickened out."  
  
"No chance. I was having a chat with Brains which took longer than I expected."  
  
Gordon was stretching in readiness. "Do you think you'll make it to the top?"  
  
"I'm out of practise, but I'll give it a go."  
  
"No need to make it into a race. I'll be first there anyway." Gordon said confidently.  
  
"No way!" Alan protested. "I'm faster than you!"  
  
"Only when you've got four wheels and a motor underneath you."  
  
"At least I don't need flippers!"  
  
Scott pulled Virgil to one side. "We're in trouble now. Neither of us are up to full speed and those two are in a competitive mood. They're going to walk all over us, and then they'll start crowing about how we're too old."  
  
"As usual." Virgil agreed, "How about we stick together. Then at least one of us will be saved the ignominy of being last."  
  
"Deal! What were you talking to Brains about?"  
  
"Oh, things..."  
  
"Boys!" Jeff called them over. "Are you ready?"  
  
"I'll give you a two minute head start if you like, Alan" Gordon offered.  
  
"Not necessary. But if you'd like one yourself, in difference of your advanced years..."  
  
"Everyone starts together." Jeff said. "I repeat! Are you ready?"  
  
Virgil unclipped the processing unit from his belt and removed his Comm-specs. "Would you look after these for me please?" he handed them over to his father.  
  
"Sure. For the third time... Are you ready?"  
  
"Ready."  
  
"Ready."  
  
"Ready."  
  
Scott nudged Virgil. Are you ready?   
  
"Oh... Ready." Virgil watched his father whose hand was raised.  
  
"Go!" Jeff dropped his arm.  
  
At first the four of them jostled together trying for the best position. Then the track started to climb up towards the summit of their island home. Soon Alan and Gordon began to pull away from their two older brothers.  
  
Initially Scott and Virgil strained to keep up with their kid brothers, before deciding that a slightly slower pace might be more beneficial and less taxing. The track narrowed and they continued upwards in single file, Scott leading.  
  
Virgil kept on pushing himself, determined to prove that things hadn't changed all that much...  
  
***  
  
"Out of my way, kiddo." Gordon gasped as he pushed past his brother.  
  
"Hey!" Alan complained before cutting a corner to get back in the lead.  
  
"No cheating!" Gordon bellowed.  
  
"That was the original track!"  
  
***  
  
Scott and Virgil were well above the sparkling waters of the Pacific Ocean. They were also well behind the other two. They weren't going slow, but were starting to feel the strain of not being up to the level of fitness that they were used to.  
  
Suddenly Scott stumbled and fell. Virgil, following close behind had to sidestep him to avoid falling as well. He stopped and turned back to his brother. "What happened?"  
  
"Blasted eyes!" Scott rubbed at his left ankle. "They lost focus and I tripped over something."  
  
"Hey." Virgil tapped Scott on the knee to get his attention and then tapped his own ears.  
  
Sorry. I've got used to you understanding speech. Scott repeated what he'd said. I've twisted my ankle.   
  
"Bad?"  
  
No. But I'm not going to run any further. Let those two play if they want.   
  
Virgil sat down. "I didn't realise I was so out of shape. I guess I'll have to start working out a bit harder from now on."  
  
I know what you mean. Miss out on a couple of days training and suddenly the stairs at home seem that much steeper.   
  
"How's the ankle."  
  
Sore.   
  
"Come on. I'll help you down." With a groan Virgil stood and held out his hand. "Can you walk?"  
  
Scott grabbed the outstretched hand and pulled himself upright. He took a couple of steps gingerly testing the strength of his ankle. Virgil moved to his side and took his arm to support him. Together they started the slow trek back down.  
  
***  
  
"Yes!" Alan punched the air. "I am the champion!" He collapsed onto the rough scoria.  
  
"Only just." Gordon collapsed beside him. "You cheated."  
  
"Did not."  
  
"Did too."  
  
They lay there for a moment trying to get their breath back.  
  
"Tell you what." Gordon panted. "Challenge you to a swimming race when we get back."  
  
"What! Me race against an Olympic champion swimmer. I'm not that stupid." Alan stated.  
  
"Ah, but you do admit to being stupid." Gordon crowed.  
  
"I didn't say that!"  
  
"Yes you did. You as good as admitted it."  
  
"Did not."  
  
"Did too."  
  
They lay in the sun for a moment longer.  
  
"Hi John." Gordon waved towards the heavens.  
  
"This time next week I'll be up there, with only the continuing chatter of the radio to keep me company." Alan said. "I'm glad it's only for a month at a time. I think I'd go batty if it were permanent."  
  
"It must be something similar to what Virgil's going through at the moment."  
  
"Yeah." Alan sat up and looked back down the track. "I wonder where they are."  
  
Gordon changed his position so he too could see down the track. "I didn't think they'd be that far behind us."  
  
"Well they haven't had the chance to keep as fit as we have."  
  
"No..." Gordon mused. "Scott's been working out, but he probably can't see the track properly, so he'll be taking it slow."  
  
"Yeah... And Virgil hasn't been able to do his swimming training... Has he shown any improvement with his hearing?"  
  
"Not that I've noticed. How long's it been?"  
  
Alan looked at the date on his watch. "Must be close to four weeks. The Professor did say it could take months."  
  
They were silent for a moment.  
  
"It's quiet without his piano playing." Alan eventually said.  
  
"Yes. It's like there's something missing at home isn't it?" Gordon admitted.  
  
Alan looked at his brother. "Do you think it's permanent?"  
  
"What? Virgil's deafness? No, it can't be..." Gordon said confidently. "Can it?"  
  
They looked at each other...  
  
***  
  
"Brains checked my hearing again today." Virgil said conversationally as they slowly made their way down the hillside.  
  
Scott looked at him. Two-way conversation was difficult while he had to rely on Virgil for support. He waited to hear what was coming.  
  
"He checked my eardrums too. One's healed, the other's pretty close."  
  
Scott started to have a bad feeling about what was coming.  
  
"There's no change in my level of hearing, so we've come to the conclusion that it's permanent."  
  
It was said so matter of factly, that Scott had to run the sentence through his mind again to make sure that he understood its implications. "Virgil!"  
  
Naturally Virgil didn't hear him. He continued their downhill walk as if they were on a casual stroll discussing the weather. "So I guess I've got to start thinking about my future now. I'll have to make a few decisions. Being an International Rescue operative is out for a start." He looked down. "How's the ankle holding up?" He looked back at Scott.  
  
O.K. Scott signed with his right hand.  
  
"If you want a break just let me know."  
  
Scott stopped walking and removed his arm from where it had been leaning on Virgil's shoulders.  
  
"Do you want to sit down?" Virgil asked in concern.  
  
No. I'm fine. It's not that bad... but you...   
  
"If you're able, we should keep moving. The sooner you get some ice on that ankle the better."  
  
V...   
  
Virgil put his brother's arm about his shoulder again. "Come on."  
  
Reluctantly Scott leant on Virgil again and they continued walking.  
  
Scott's thoughts were in a whirl. He'd refused to believe that Virgil's condition could be permanent. Maybe Virgil had misunderstood. That had to be it. He'd check with Brains when he got the opportunity.  
  
The track flattened out and they rounded the corner.  
  
Jeff Tracy and Brains were there talking, they looked up and started walking briskly towards the two younger Tracy men.  
  
"I guess he's told Father." Virgil commented.  
  
"What happened?" Jeff asked.  
  
"I'm fine." Scott said quickly. "Just twisted my ankle. But Brains tell me... Virgil said it's permanent... It's not true is it?" The expression on his father's face had already told him the answer.  
  
Brains took his arm "Come on. I'll have a look at your ankle."  
  
"But..."  
  
Jeff stood in front of his other son an expression of concern on his face. "Are you all right, Virgil?"  
  
"You'd better get used to the fact that I can't hear you without my Comm-specs." Virgil said calmly. "Can I have them back?"  
  
Sorry. Jeff handed them over to him and waited until his son had switched the processor on and had donned the glasses. "Are you all right?" he repeated.  
  
"Yes, fine. Why shouldn't I be?"  
  
"Well." Jeff was at a loss. "It must have been a shock."  
  
"Not really. I thought it might be permanent."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Virgil gave a smile. "It's funny how people say that, when it's not their fault."  
  
"Isn't it?" Jeff asked. "I started International Rescue..."  
  
"And I chose to join. It was an accident, pure and simple. No one is to blame."  
  
"Where have I heard that before?" Jeff muttered.  
  
"Pardon?" Virgil asked. The microphones hadn't picked up the words clearly.  
  
"Nothing. Look, why don't you go hit the showers? We can talk later."  
  
"Okay." Virgil wandered over to where Scott and Brains were. "How's the ankle."  
  
"Never mind my ankle." Scott said. He was seated with his foot raised, an ice pack on his injured limb. He looked devastated. "How are you?"  
  
"Tired. I'm heading home to relax."  
  
"That's not what I mean. How come you're so calm?"  
  
"There's no need to get upset is there." Virgil stated. "We can't do anything about it, can we, Brains."  
  
"N-No." Brains stuttered uncomfortably. "B-But B-Bunny..."  
  
"Is a very clever man, but he would have found a cure by now if he was able to. It's time to get on with my life. I'll see you back at the house."  
  
The three of them watched him head home to the villa.  
  
***   
  
  
  
As word filtered through about Virgil's deafness, a sense of shock settled over the rest of the family. Surely this couldn't be happening. Not again.  
  
"Why, Jeff?" his mother asked. "Why is this family having such bad luck? First Scott, now Virgil? Why?"  
  
"I don't know, Mother." He said quietly. "I guess we've got to be grateful that Scott has regained his sight and that Virgil wasn't more seriously hurt."  
  
"But they were helping people! They were trying to save lives! Why should it happen to them? Why not to someone who didn't care?"  
  
"Mother! I don't know!" he snapped and then softened his tone. "I'm sorry... I don't know the answers. I wish I did. If I had a crystal ball I would have prevented all this happening. I've knowingly sent them out into danger and in the process have ruined their lives. I've failed my sons."  
  
"No you didn't!"  
  
"Didn't I! What else can I believe?"  
  
"Do you honestly think they would have stayed with International Rescue if they hadn't believed in what you believe in?"  
  
"I don't know what to think anymore. Perhaps for some reason they felt obligated to me. They felt they HAD to belong. Or maybe it was some kind of fraternal pressure they put on each other, to please me. I failed them when they were boys and I've failed them now."  
  
"Jeff!" She came over and took his hands. "You've never failed them! You know those boys as well as I do. Whenever any of them gets an idea into his head nothing will sway them. If any of them had thought that International Rescue was a bad idea they would have said so at the beginning. And you would have willingly let him go to carry on with his own life. No one has been forced into THIS life... not you, not me, not John or Gordon or Alan, not Scott and certainly not Virgil. We all made our own choice, because we believed in you and we believed in International Rescue."  
  
"But..."  
  
"No buts. You know I'm speaking the truth!"  
  
***  
  
It was Scott who'd told Alan and Gordon and John.  
  
"Permanent?" John whispered.  
  
Scott nodded numbly.  
  
"But he seemed so calm... He took part in the run... As if nothing was wrong..." Gordon was struggling with the news.  
  
"We were talking about it, weren't we, Gordon. We actually said that it couldn't be permanent, didn't we. He seemed so... normal." Alan had a stunned look on his face.  
  
"Brains! Are you sure there's nothing you can do?" John asked.  
  
Brains hesitated before answering. "B-Bunny i-is s-still s-searching f-for a c-cure."  
  
"He fixed me up!" Scott said hopefully. "Perhaps he'll come up with something."  
  
"P-Perhaps." Brains said doubtfully.  
  
Scott looked at him shrewdly. There was something they weren't being told. "What are you hiding, Brains?"  
  
"H-Hiding?"  
  
"Yes hiding. You're stutter's worse. That only happens when you're upset or unsure over something."  
  
"I-I'm upset th-that I c-can't h-help Virgil."  
  
"His music." John said in anguish. "We'll never hear his music again."  
  
"It won't seem like home without Virgil playing the piano." Alan agreed.  
  
"It'll kill him!" Gordon reiterated.  
  
"It hasn't so far." Scott reminded him.  
  
"He's taking it too well. Something's wrong." Alan said.  
  
"H-He said h-he thought it was permanent." Brains told them. "He's been pr-preparing himself f-for this."  
  
"Where is he?" John asked.  
  
"Painting in his room, last time I saw him." Alan said.  
  
"If you'll all excuse m-me," Brains stood, "I-I'm going to call Bunny."  
  
"Let's hope he has good news for us."   
  
*** 


	60. Ninety One

Ninety One - BF  
  
Scott clambered up the last few metres, brushing aside the scrub that threatened to bar his path. He emerged in a clearing.  
  
He walked to the edge.  
  
From here he could see for miles, the great Pacific Ocean was stretched out before him.  
  
From here, on this rocky outcrop, he could feel the wind blowing through his hair.  
  
From here, if he looked down, he appeared to be floating high above the Earth.  
  
From here, if he spread his arms wide, he could pretend he was flying. Flying like a bird.  
  
It was as close as he could get to truly flying, without having to rely on the entrapments of man made, mechanical wings.  
  
This was his place. A haven from International Rescue, and family, and the stresses that accompanied both.  
  
None of his family knew what this spot meant to him. None of them knew why he came here. Not even Virgil.  
  
He'd got Virgil to assist him here once, while he was blind, but it hadn't felt the same. The never-ending darkness had robbed him of its pleasures.   
  
He'd never gone back.  
  
It was the view that had carried him away.  
  
It was the view that had brought him that sense of peace.  
  
Now, standing here with his vision nearly completely restored, he was once again feeling that sensation of tranquillity.  
  
This was as near to flying and being in control as he'd been since...  
  
...Since Regnad Corporation. He couldn't count the time he'd flown Alan home in Thunderbird One. He hadn't felt in control then, only a sense of desperation that he'd been forced into such a situation.   
  
The trip home from rehabilitation, when Virgil had let him pilot Thunderbird One had been great, but not the same. He hadn't been in total control.  
  
No... the last time he'd enjoyed flying was when he'd flown Thunderbird One to Regnad. Before he'd descended deep into the Earth away from the blue skies that he loved so much.  
  
Before he'd descended into Hell.  
  
He took in a deep breath, getting a lung full of that good, pure sea air.  
  
A gull soared past him, looking at him with one white eye as if asking him what right a mere human being had to invade his space.  
  
"You don't know how lucky you are," he told it.  
  
It dipped away from him, down towards the waves that lapped far below.  
  
His eyes followed it, coming to rest on a lone figure that stood on the beach looking out to sea.  
  
For a moment he felt anger that another human had invaded his sanctuary. Then he admonished himself for feeling that way.  
  
He reflected on the cruel ironies of life. Here he was, just regaining the things that he thought he'd lost forever, finally finding peace... And there was Virgil, desperately trying, for one short time, to convince himself that things were as they'd always been. That the sounds he heard were the sounds of the ocean.   
  
Trying to convince himself that life as he knew it wasn't gone forever.  
  
Scott looked at his watch. His father had called a meeting for this afternoon and the allotted time was drawing close. Time to head back home.  
  
He didn't know what the purpose of this meeting was for, but something in the way that his father had spoken had caused warning bells to ring in his mind.  
  
This meeting was to discuss something important.  
  
It was the reason why he'd felt the need to come here, a chance to prepare for what lay ahead.  
  
Scott wondered if Virgil had remembered the meeting, and was aware of the time. He decided to follow a 'goat' track down from his lookout, that way he could catch up with his brother on the beach and they could walk home together.  
  
He started descending.  
  
***  
  
Virgil looked at his watch. Nearly time for the meeting.  
  
He had a bad feeling about this. Something in his father's expression had warned him to expect something extreme.  
  
Virgil had a feeling that he wouldn't like what he was about to hear.  
  
A wave rolled in and gently soaked the sand at his feet. He dug his toe in and watched as the next wave filled the newly formed hollow before the sand once again settled so that he couldn't even see where he'd disturbed it.  
  
He watched a breaker chase another onto the shore.  
  
He slowly turned and followed his footprints in the sand back to the house.  
  
***   
  
It had been over a year since Scott had used this track.  
  
A year of storms, and winds, and rain.  
  
A year of degradation.  
  
His yell, as the ground beneath his feet crumbled away, echoed off the cliffs and out over the Pacific Ocean.  
  
The only person close enough to hear the shout wasn't able to.  
  
Virgil walked on obliviously.  
  
Scott clutched desperately to a scrubby bush, its rough bark tearing at his hands. Below him the cliff dropped vertically away to hard, unforgiving rocks.  
  
As he'd grabbed at the shrub his momentum had caused his body to swing round so that his back was against the cliff face and his arms were twisted unnaturally. The rock against his back was smooth, but that was small conciliation as he looked down at the dizzying drop and tried to find the smallest ledge to stand on.   
  
His feet could find no purchase and every searching movement caused the roots to rip further out of the ground. Scott looked back up. Only half of the root system was embedded in the insubstantial soil. It wouldn't take too much of an effort for the whole lot to be torn from the ground, sending the plant, and himself, plummeting down to the beach below.  
  
He wasn't that far from the track. But nevertheless it was out of reach.  
  
He couldn't move.  
  
"Virgil!" He tried yelling optimistically. "Help me!"  
  
Virgil walked on.  
  
  
  
"Help!" He tried yelling again, and the force of his bellow caused the plant's grip on the cliff to loosen a little more. Sandy soil rained down upon his head and blinded him momentarily.  
  
"Virgil," he whispered, "if you and I are as telepathic as people seem to think, now would be a good time for you to read my thoughts."  
  
Virgil neared the end of the beach.  
  
Scott was watching his lifeline slip away.  
  
Instead of seeing his life flash before his eyes he suddenly had an image of his epitaph.  
  
'Scott Tracy - The story of his life finished with a cliff-hanger.'  
  
*** 


	61. Ninety Two

Ninety Two - BF  
  
"Has anyone seen Scott and Virgil?" Jeff asked.  
  
The rest of the family had assembled for the meeting.  
  
"They've each gone for a walk." Grandma Tracy informed him. "But I know they'd both remembered the meeting."  
  
"They're not late." Alan pointed out. "They've still got two minutes."  
  
"Where are they?" Jeff asked fractiously.  
  
"They'll be there!" John said confidently. "Have you ever known Scott to be late for anything?"  
  
"Sure." Gordon was equally as confident. "He's probably trying to convince Virgil to hurry up. Did you tell him the meeting was in the lounge?"  
  
"Yes!" Jeff snapped.  
  
"Don't you think that's a bit mean, Jeff?" his mother asked. "He hasn't been in here since..."  
  
"I know! And that's one reason why I wanted to hold the meeting here. He can't run away from things forever."  
  
She pouted, showing her disapproval.  
  
"So, what's the meeting for, Dad?" Gordon asked.  
  
"You'll find out soon enough!" Jeff Tracy was clearly on edge. "That's if those two ever turn up." He strode out on the patio to see if he could see his errant sons.  
  
The rest of the family took the opportunity to do a little speculation amongst themselves.  
  
"Anyone know what we're here for?" Alan asked in a stage whisper.  
  
"Is it to do with International Rescue or family?" John wondered.  
  
"I-International Rescue." Brains opined firmly. "Th-The Kyrano's and I wouldn't be h-here if it were family."  
  
"Yes you would." John rebuked him. "You guys are as much family as any of us."  
  
"Is it something to do with Virgil?" Tin-Tin asked.  
  
"No. If it was why would there be all this secrecy." Alan looked over to the scientist. "There's nothing we should know about him, is there Brains?"  
  
Brains looked away. "N-No."  
  
Jeff came striding back in. "I'm going to call Scott!"  
  
***  
  
Scott heard the signal but was powerless to answer. He shouted, hopeful that maybe his wristwatch communicator would pick up his voice.  
  
He began to feel desperate when the signal ceased.  
  
He looked back down the beach to where Virgil was almost out of sight.  
  
"Virgil!!!"  
  
***  
  
Virgil didn't want to go back home, to face the lounge, but by the same token he didn't want everyone setting out on another search for him. He continued his slow progress in the direction of the villa.  
  
A seagull landed on the beach ahead of him. He watched it and it cocked its head as if it were listening to something.  
  
"You don't know how lucky you are," he told it.  
  
It opened its mouth in a silent screech and flew off into the air.  
  
His eyes followed its path.  
  
"Scott!!!"  
  
***  
  
Jeff angrily disconnected the link to Scott's watch. "Does anyone know where he's gone!?"  
  
"No.", and "Sorry, Dad, and the shaking of heads were his replies.  
  
"Has Virgil got his Comm-specs with him?"  
  
"He left them with me." Grandma reached into the pocket of her apron and removed the articles. "That's how I know he'd remembered the meeting. He didn't want them while he was on his walk, but wanted to be able to come straight here afterwards."  
  
"It's not like either of them to be late, or for Scott to be out of touch." John said uneasily.  
  
"They're probably talking somewhere." Tin-Tin offered. "And lost track of the time."  
  
"I know they need to talk." Jeff muttered loudly. "But why now?" He received querying looks from his family. "I'm going to try to contact Virgil. He won't hear me, but at least it might remind him."  
  
The words were barely out of his mouth when the eyes in Virgil's portrait started flashing urgently.  
  
Jeff flicked the switch. "Go ahead, Virgil!"  
  
The way the picture was jumping around, and the way Virgil wasn't concentrating on the watch, told them that he was running.  
  
"Scott's fallen down the cliff! He's hanging part way down! We're to the west! Near the end of the beach!"  
  
"How is he?" Jeff asked uselessly, fear gripping his heart.  
  
Gordon, Alan and Brains had already sprung into action, heading for Thunderbird Two. As Jeff looked to them to give his commands he was just in time to see Gordon tip out of sight.  
  
The rest of the family ran for the patio and the steps that led to the beach.  
  
"John!" Jeff ordered. "Get a bearing on Scott's watch. Send the information through to Thunderbird Two."  
  
John was already on his computer. "Got it in hand, Dad." He pressed a key. "It's done!"  
  
"Where's Virgil?"  
  
"He's close to Scott and gaining altitude. I'd say he's climbing up to him."  
  
***  
  
Virgil crawled the last few metres, trying to spread his body weight and prevent more of the track collapsing. He reached the gap in the trail and lent over, grabbing Scott by the wrist. "Are you okay?"  
  
Scott gave him a reassuring smile.  
  
"Hold tight. I've got a message to the others."  
  
'Hold tight!' Scott thought to himself. 'I've been doing that for the last five minutes!'  
  
"Can you twist round?" Virgil asked.  
  
Scott shook his head and the movement caused the plant to loosen its hold a fraction more.  
  
"Hang in there. They won't be long."  
  
'Hang in there! Virgil we've got to do something about your use of clichés.' Scott thought. But he appreciated his brothers concern.  
  
***  
  
"There they are!" Tin-Tin yelled as she emerged from between the rocks the marked the end of this beach.   
  
She was followed by Jeff, then Kyrano, and finally Grandma. "Oh my!" she gasped when she spied her two grandsons. "Jeff! We've got to do something!"  
  
At that moment the light from the sun was eclipsed as Thunderbird Two swung into view.  
  
"Something's being done Mother. Just relax."  
  
***  
  
"How's things going guys?" John asked anxiously.  
  
"We've got a visual on them." Gordon replied. "I'll send you video."  
  
"Thanks." John watched the scene unfolding, as Thunderbird Two was manoeuvred into position. "How did he get there?"  
  
"I'll ask him as soon as we've got him on board."  
  
***  
  
Brains and Alan were preparing the elevator car.   
  
"You set with the winch?" Alan yelled above the noise of Thunderbird Two's jets and the wind.  
  
"F-A-B."  
  
Alan spoke into the microphone. "Ready when you are Gordon."  
  
"Okay. I'm swinging into position now."  
  
***  
  
Virgil glanced up when the shadow fell over them. "Told you they wouldn't be long."  
  
The plant gave up its tenuous grip on the cliff face and fell...  
  
*** 


	62. Ninety Three

Ninety Three - BF  
  
Tin-Tin gave a little scream and Mrs Tracy hid her eyes when they saw both men slip.  
  
Jeff held his mother close and watched the unfolding drama, his jaw clenched firmly as he offered up a silent prayer for help.  
  
Kyrano comforted Tin-Tin. "Hush my daughter. All will be well."  
  
***  
  
"They've slipped!" Alan said in alarm. "We've got to get in there!"  
  
"I can't bring her in any lower." Gordon told him via the intercom. "I'll cook them if I use the jets. I'm going to have to back up and come in horizontally."  
  
***  
  
Virgil felt himself slipping closer to the cliff edge. He managed to snare one arm around a handy rock to halt his slide. Fortunately it held firm. Scott's sudden downward lunge had wrenched painfully at his other arm, and it was with surprise that he realised that the limb hadn't been pulled out of its socket.  
  
The sudden downward force had caused Scott to swing around again, so that he was now facing the cliff. The arm that wasn't held tight in Virgil's grasp flapped free and it took all of his effort to gain some control of it and bring it up so that it was able to grab Virgil's wrist. "Phew!" He said. "That was close!"  
  
"That was close." Virgil replied.  
  
Scott looked up. Thunderbird Two was now directly overhead, but too high up to use the winch. He looked at Virgil. His brother was red in the face from the exertion, and he could tell that he wouldn't be able to hang on for much longer. Scott was feeling the same.  
  
"Virgil." He said. "If you're going to slip over the edge. Let go of me and save yourself."  
  
"I won't let go of you!"  
  
***  
  
Gordon backed Thunderbird Two up, reduced height and then flew in again. Now the cable that held the elevator car was within reach. "Down you go, Alan."  
  
"F-A-B."   
  
Brains operated the winch at the fastest speed he could maintain safely.  
  
***  
  
Those on the beach watched the elevator car emerge from Thunderbird Two's undercarriage.  
  
"They're going to make it." Jeff said hopefully. "They've just got to."  
  
***  
  
Even as he spoke the rock that Virgil was tenaciously clinging to started to move. He felt himself once again slip closer to the edge.  
  
"Virgil!" Scott pleaded. "Let go of me! Save yourself!"  
  
"No!"  
  
***  
  
Looking over the safety partition on the elevator car, Alan saw the movement. "Quick Brains! They're slipping!"  
  
Brains threw caution to the wind and put the winch release onto maximum.  
  
The elevator car dropped like a stone.  
  
***  
  
"What are they doing?" Jeff asked in anguish as he saw the car fall and then snap to a halt, swinging with it's arrested momentum. Now he could no longer see his two sons clinging to the crumbling cliff face.  
  
"They will not fail." Kyrano reassured him. "Your sons and Mister Brains have triumphed in worse situations than this."  
  
"I sure hope you're right." Jeff muttered through clenched teeth. "I don't like being a spectator like this."  
  
***  
  
Alan had been thrown against the back of the car. "Boy Brains! That's some brakes you've installed there." He said as he struggled to his feet and braced himself against the swinging motion. He looked out over the partition. "Hang on, Scott!"  
  
"What? You too?" Scott gritted out.  
  
"Give me another metre, Brains." Alan called into the intercom. This descent was gentler. "Right! Stop there! Now bring her forward!" The elevator car moved forward so that its bottom lip was flush against the cliff. Alan grabbed Scott's waist. "Okay guys, you can let go." He pulled Scott into the car and sat him down against the back wall. "Are you okay?"  
  
"I am now." Scott managed a weak grin. "Get Virgil in will you."  
  
"Hey. I'm in charge here, so I'll give the orders. You're the victim, so relax." Alan grinned as he activated the intercom. "I've got Scott. Bring her up a bit and I'll pick up Virgil too." The car scraped upwards against the cliff face. When it was high enough he assisted Virgil inside. Are you okay.   
  
Virgil was rubbing at his abused arm. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks, Alan." He looked at Scott. "How are you?"  
  
Scott flashed him a smile. "Alan, I feel as if I've got lead weights attached to my arms. Tell him I'm okay."  
  
He's okay, V. Some guys will do anything to get out of a meeting...   
  
***   
  
Down on the beach they watched as the elevator car gained height. They were more than a little relieved when the cliff was once again revealed.  
  
Jeff squeezed his mother tightly in celebration and then relaxed the embrace. "They made it! I've got to hand it to them, they really do know what they are doing."   
  
"Of course they do Jeff! They're your sons. They'll never give up." His mother reminded him.  
  
"Yes..." he mused as he watched Thunderbird Two fly back towards the runway. "...They'll never give up."  
  
***   
  
Gordon landed Thunderbird Two, taxied her back into the hanger and then set the diagnostics programme into action.  
  
He was surprised when he finally turned around to see Virgil sitting there alone.  
  
Hi! He signed uncertainly. How'd I do?   
  
"With what?"  
  
Flying Thunderbird Two.   
  
"I've got no complaints with your piloting abilities."  
  
Thanks. Gordon looked at his brother. He looked... sad. Are you okay?   
  
"I don't know, Gordon. I honestly don't know."  
  
Gordon waited to see if he would expand on this statement. Scott's lucky you were passing.   
  
"I wouldn't have seen him if I hadn't been watching a seagull."  
  
Like I said he's lucky. Gordon signed cheerfully. So... How's it feel to be rescued by your own plane?   
  
"But it's not mine now is it." Virgil replied. "We've just proved that I'm no good on rescues anymore. If it hadn't been for that gull I would never have seen him. I didn't even know Thunderbird Two was there until its shadow fell on us."  
  
But you did see him! You probably saved his life.   
  
"Maybe." Virgil stood and rotated his shoulder gingerly.  
  
You'd better get that arm looked at. Gordon insisted.  
  
"No. It's okay. Just a little sore." Virgil looked about the cabin. "I guess she's yours now. Look after her. Treat her like you would a beautiful woman."  
  
I will. Gordon couldn't believe the way the conversation was heading.  
  
"On second thoughts. Treat her better. I know you." Virgil managed a small smile.  
  
It's a deal. Gordon managed a smile of his own. Do you want to take the pilot's chute back up?   
  
Virgil shook his head. "No. I think I'll go back in via the maintenance hangers, I want to see Brains and he'll either be in the infirmary or the lab."  
  
*** 


	63. Ninety Four

Ninety Four - BF  
  
It was in the lab a few minutes later that Virgil found Brains, on the videophone talking to Bunny Bunsen. "Sorry. I won't interrupt you."  
  
"Virgil!" Brains had to go after him to get his attention. "I-It's okay. W-We were discussing you anyway."  
  
Virgil gave a wan smile. "That's a surprise." He said ironically. "Hi Professor."  
  
"Hello, Virgil. How are you?"  
  
"I've been better."  
  
"Wh-What can we do for you?"  
  
"Nothing really. I just don't feel 100 percent."  
  
Brains frowned. "H-How do you mean?"  
  
"I'm feeling a bit stiff, which is understandable, a bit nauseous and slightly giddy. And the tinnitus is pretty loud. I'd put it down to being pulled about in the rescue, but the last time I felt like this was just before that... bad attack. I thought I should warn you in case there's another one coming."  
  
"Y-You didn't m-mention any of these symptoms before."  
  
"Sorry, Brains. But I honestly didn't remember. At the time I thought it was because of the stresses of Tin-Tin's rescue, and then after everything turned to custard, I simply forgot."  
  
Brains was taking his pulse. "Seems n-normal. Wh-What do you think Bunny?"  
  
"I think we need more tests! The full range."  
  
"Wonderful." Virgil groaned. "I'm going to feel like a pincushion by the time we've got this sorted, aren't I."  
  
"I want to know blood pressure, heart rate, breathing rate. Blood tests. Breathing tests. Do tests with the cat scanner, electroencephalograph... Yes the electroencephalograph tests are very important. Get one now, and again later, if 'things turn to custard'..."  
  
"Fine." Brains was taking notes.  
  
"Wait a moment." Virgil sounded slightly alarmed. "I'm only getting that 95 percent accuracy with the Comm-specs, Brains. What did the professor say?"  
  
Brains read from his notes. "Blood pressure, heart rate..."  
  
Virgil waved that aside. "No. What's the long word?"  
  
"Electroencephalograph."  
  
Virgil shook his head. "I still didn't get it... Electric...?"  
  
"Elec-tro-en-ce-pha-lo-graph."  
  
"Sounds terrible!"  
  
Brains smiled. "Don't worry, we've already used it on you a couple of times. It records brain activity."  
  
"Oh... Why do medical terms have to be so long winded?"  
  
"And if I-I asked you what a potentiometer was, what w-would you say?"  
  
"I'd say, say it slower so I could read it."  
  
"Po-ten-ti-o- ..."  
  
"Potentiometer!" Now Virgil got it. "I'd say it was an instrument that measures or controls electric potentials or electromotive forces by reference to a known or standard voltage."  
  
"And isn't th-that longwinded?"  
  
Virgil managed a smile. "Yeah, I guess it is." He took off his Comm-specs and ran his arm over his eyes. "I'm starting to get a headache. I don't know if it's from all this reading or if I'm ill."  
  
"Better get started, Brains." Professor Bunsen said. "Send through the results as soon as you get them, then I can start analysing. See if I can find out what's causing this."  
  
"Y-Yes." Brains touched Virgil on the arm, and indicated the Comm-specs. Reluctantly Virgil put them back on. "Y-You'll either have to wear them, or I'll h-have to get one of your brothers to translate." He reminded him.  
  
Virgil sighed. "I'll wear them for the moment."  
  
"G-Go through to the infirmary and I'll m-meet you there." Virgil stood and turned to leave. "A-And Virgil!" Brains managed to stop him. "I-I'm going to tell your father, to w-warn him."  
  
Virgil looked as though he were going to protest, but then nodded.  
  
***  
  
When Brains reached the infirmary he had both Jeff and Scott Tracy in tow.  
  
Noticing that his brother didn't have the Comm-specs on Scott signed, How're you feeling?   
  
"I've been worse. Why am I not surprised that you're here?"  
  
I was in the room when Brains told Father. We thought we might need someone to translate. I can leave if you'd rather.   
  
"No. Stay. I'm surprised you can even use your arms. How are they?"  
  
Sore, but not too bad. I've skinned my hands a little. Scott displayed the sticking plasters that adorned his hands. But I'd rather be in here helping you than sitting out there wondering what's going on.   
  
"Thanks."  
  
Just repaying the favour.   
  
"What tests are you going to do, Brains?" Jeff asked.  
  
Brains led him over to the table that held his notes so that he could explain.   
  
Scott took the opportunity to talk to Virgil. How are you really? This time he didn't speak as he signed the words.  
  
Virgil took the hint and also signed without speech. I'm really not feeling that bad. Under normal circumstances I'd just put it down to what's just happened and ignore it.   
  
Brains said you'd felt like this before.   
  
Yes. You know the night of the storm, when you came to see if I wanted to come to dinner, Scott nodded, I was feeling a little 'seedy' then...   
  
Why didn't you tell me?   
  
I just thought it was a result of all the stresses of Tin-Tin's rescue that afternoon. I didn't think it was anything to worry about.   
  
But you're worried now?   
  
Virgil glanced over to where his father and Brains were talking with their backs to him and Scott. Yes I am. I don't want to go through that again.   
  
How long after I saw you was it before you started feeling really bad?   
  
I couldn't sleep that night, but I'd say it wasn't until just before breakfast that it started to get unbearable.   
  
So we're looking at maybe ten hours before things get bad.   
  
If they get bad, yes.   
  
Have the Professor and Brains come up with any alternative treatments?   
  
Not really. We decided that maybe if it happened again they'd sedate me for a time and hope that the tinnitus would improve while I was out to it.   
  
Well it's better than the alternative.   
  
Is it? Does it really matter now?   
  
Yes it does! We don't want to risk further damage in case the Professor or someone works out what the problem is.   
  
But if they sedate me, I'll be unconscious for about 24 hours. At least with the original treatment I can still do something useful...   
  
Don't worry about that.   
  
...And I could enjoy some time without the tinnitus.   
  
It really is that bad isn't it. Scott signed, his expression grim.  
  
Yes it is!   
  
Scott sat in thought a moment. V... You know how people think we've got this telepathic connection.   
  
Virgil chuckled. Yes.   
  
Do you?   
  
Virgil was surprised at the question. Well, I can't say that I've ever had your thoughts suddenly appear in my mind, but I think I know you pretty well, and can tell what you are thinking, and I'd say you feel the same about me... Why?   
  
I was talking to you, while you were hanging on to me, and you were answering. I know you couldn't hear me. I could barely hear myself over Thunderbird Two's engines.   
  
Now you know what it's like. Virgil managed a grin. What did we say?   
  
I told you to let me go if I was going to pull you over.   
  
Like I said. I know you. I could see you talking and then you loosened your grip. I knew you'd rather go down than drag me with you, you idiot.   
  
Scott smiled at the affectionate insult. Not quite as exciting as telepathy is it.   
  
No.   
  
"What do you think those two are saying, Brains?" Jeff whispered.   
  
"I-I don't know, Mr Tracy." Brains sighed and looked at the list of tasks. "I wish I knew where to start looking for answers."  
  
"Well you'd better get on with it."  
  
***  
  
Three hours later and they were none the wiser. Virgil was obviously deteriorating although he tried to remain cheerful.  
  
"What's causing this Brains?" Jeff asked. "He was fine earlier."  
  
"I-I don't know, M-Mr Tracy. I-It could be as a result of ph-physical stress. L-Last time it was Tin-Tin's rescue, this t-time it was Scott's. Or it could be emotional. L-Last time he was worried for T-Tin-Tin and Scott, and this time..."  
  
"And this time it was Scott, and himself."  
  
"E-Exactly."  
  
"Is, what ever it is, likely to settle down over time?"  
  
"P-Possibly. Also if we could narrow d-down the cause then we could m-minimise his exposure to the c-catalyst."  
  
"And if it is caused by stress of some type then there's no way he can continue on as a front line operative of International Rescue."  
  
"Yes, M-Mr Tracy." Brains said sadly.  
  
"Do I have to stay here any longer?" Virgil asked, "or can I go back to my room?"  
  
"We've finished all the t-tests." Brains told him with Scott's assistance. "You d-don't need to stay. But before you go. Wh-What do you want me to do if it gets too bad?"  
  
Virgil glanced at Scott once again before replying. "What do you recommend?"  
  
"S-Sedation."  
  
"Okay. We'll try that this time."  
  
Scott relaxed.  
  
***  
  
Six hours later and Virgil was unable to relax. He banged on Brains' bedroom door. "I'm sorry to wake you..." he began when the door was opened.  
  
He didn't hear, but understood when Brains said "It's okay. C-Come on." 


	64. Ninety Five

Ninety Five - BF  
  
The next day everyone, especially Virgil, had been greatly relieved when he'd awoken from the medically induced sleep feeling much healthier and happier. They were all sitting together enjoying breakfast.  
  
Scott gave a laugh.  
  
"Well, share the joke." Gordon demanded.  
  
"I was just remembering." Scott told him. "You know how you're supposed to see your life flash before your eyes when you're going to die."  
  
"I thought that was when you were drowning." Alan said.  
  
"Maybe that explains it. It didn't happen to me, but I suddenly saw my epitaph..." he took a breath to say the words, and then sagged, "... and I've forgotten it." He finished forlornly.  
  
"Do you want us to put you back so you can remember it?" Alan asked.  
  
"No!"  
  
  
  
"Your epitaph?" Gordon asked. "What something like..." he screwed up his face in thought. "...Ah! I know...  
  
Scott Tracy  
  
Was a hero  
  
Fell down a cliff  
  
And now he's zero."  
  
  
  
"No it wasn't!" Scott protested indignantly.  
  
  
  
"I like it!" Alan beamed delightedly. "How about... um...  
  
Scott Tracy  
  
Wasn't too bright  
  
Didn't know he needed wings  
  
When he wanted to take flight."  
  
  
  
"I wish I hadn't mentioned it." Scott muttered.  
  
Everyone started talking at once. Each trying to come up with their own epitaph for some other member of the family.  
  
They stopped suddenly when there was a loud whistle.  
  
"Well that worked!" Virgil said when he noticed them all looking at him. "You're all giving me a headache. The Comm-specs can't cope with you all talking at once and I'm just getting this fast moving jumble of letters. One at a time please!"  
  
"Okay!" Alan reached into the fruit bowl. "Who ever has the orange can speak."  
  
"You've got it." Gordon told him. "Your turn."  
  
  
  
"Oh. Maybe this wasn't a good idea... Okay!   
  
Here lies our oldest brother  
  
Flown to pastures new  
  
He didn't know where the edge was  
  
When he stopped to enjoy the view."  
  
  
  
"Oh bother!" Scott muttered. "Pick on someone else will you."  
  
"I've got one!" his grandmother exclaimed. "Give me the orange!"  
  
"Mother!" Jeff said in surprise.  
  
  
  
She grinned impishly.  
  
"S.T.  
  
R.I.P.  
  
F.A.B."  
  
  
  
"Grandma!" Scott said in shock.  
  
"I don't mind while they're in fun." She shook a finger at him. "But don't ever let ME see your epitaph for real. Now who wants the orange?"  
  
  
  
"Me!" Gordon took the fruit. "Here lies the pilot of Thunderbird One,"   
  
Scott groaned.  
  
"He liked to keep control,  
  
But couldn't keep his footing,  
  
And slid off down a hole."  
  
  
  
"I've got one." Tin-Tin had an angelic smile, but also a twinkle in her eye.   
  
"Here lies Gordon,  
  
Loved the sea to the end,  
  
But couldn't quite believe,  
  
The shark wouldn't be his friend."  
  
  
  
"M-May I-I?"  
  
"Brains?" Tin-Tin handed over the orange.  
  
"I-I like the rhythm of r-rhyming poetry, there is a c-certain logic to it," he blushed. "I-I dabble occasionally."  
  
"You do?" Jeff said.  
  
"I-It's not very good."  
  
"I'd like to hear some."  
  
  
  
"Well... Th-This is a bit rushed..." Brains swallowed and then recited perfectly clearly...  
  
"Here lie the Tracys  
  
Never to wake  
  
Their Grandma fed them  
  
Too much cake"  
  
  
  
Tin-Tin laughed and clapped her hands. "I love it!"  
  
"N-Next?" Brains held out the orange.  
  
  
  
"Here." Alan took it.  
  
"Here lies Kyrano  
  
His soul's not at peace  
  
The angels wanted him  
  
To prepare them a feast"  
  
  
  
Kyrano smiled and bowed slightly.  
  
"Who've we missed?" Gordon asked. His eyes fell on his father and an evil smile spread across his face. He took the orange.  
  
"Oh no." Jeff moaned.  
  
  
  
"Jeff Tracy had a plan,  
  
To save the world from strife,  
  
Till the day a paper cut,  
  
Robbed him of his life."  
  
  
  
His Grandmother laughed. "I told you all that office work wasn't good for you Jeff."  
  
  
  
"My turn." Virgil was grinning as he took the orange.   
  
"Here's the remains of Scott Tracy,  
  
Our brother and our friend.  
  
Lived life as if in a story,  
  
With a cliff-hanger at the end."  
  
  
  
"That was it!" Scott exclaimed. "Not phrased that way, but that bit about the cliff-hanger, that's what I came up with."  
  
  
  
Gordon didn't worry about claiming the orange from Virgil...  
  
"Here lies Virgil Tracy,  
  
His requiem has been played,  
  
He wrote the tune and lyrics,  
  
But didn't hear the serenade..." He tailed off as he realised what he'd said. "Sorry, Virg."  
  
  
  
There was an uncomfortable silence as Virgil stared at Gordon, before he began to recite...  
  
"Gordon Tracy  
  
Is no more  
  
Thought Thunderbird Two  
  
Was Thunderbird Four  
  
He survived the crash  
  
He was unscathed  
  
Till his older brother  
  
Saw the mess he'd made."  
  
  
  
He quietly placed the orange on the table.  
  
"Ah!" Gordon said sheepishly. "Point taken."  
  
"Good."  
  
"If I may," Kyrano said differentially, "I would like to try."  
  
"Please do Kyrano." Virgil handed him the orange.  
  
  
  
Kyrano reverentially took the orange.  
  
"Jefferson Tracy  
  
Philanthropist  
  
By the peoples of the world  
  
Sorely missed."  
  
  
  
"That was good enough to be used as the real thing." Alan commented.  
  
"Not during my lifetime." Jeff threatened.  
  
"That's the idea isn't it?"  
  
Kyrano returned the orange to the fruit bowl.  
  
The family returned their attention to their meal. Alan lapsed into thought.  
  
"Virgil?" he asked, and kicked his brother lightly under the table.   
  
Virgil looked up. "Yes?"  
  
"Gordon and I were wondering... Is it similar to being in Thunderbird Five?"  
  
Virgil frowned in confusion. "Is what similar to being in Thunderbird Five?"  
  
"Your deafness and the tinnitus?"  
  
The dining room went silent as Virgil stared at his youngest brother. Then he slowly smiled. "You know, in some respects that's quite a good analogy."  
  
"How?" Jeff asked.  
  
"The isolation. You know there's people out there, but you can't quite communicate with them, except with technology..." he indicated his glasses. "And there's the continuous noise which is the only thing that disturbs the silence. On Thunderbird Five it's the radio, with me it's the tinnitus." He resumed his breakfast. Then he looked up again.   
  
Everyone was staring at him.  
  
"What?" he asked in exasperation. "Have I got marmalade on my face or something?" He rubbed at his nose.  
  
To his brothers, Brains and Tin-Tin, all of whom had spent time alone on Thunderbird Five, it was an all too clear example of what life was now like for Virgil.  
  
For the other members of the family group it was some inkling of what life must be like for the residents of the space station.  
  
The lightness and laughter that had existed only moments earlier had evaporated.  
  
Jeff stared at the piece of toast that lay on his plate. 'What have I asked my boys to do?' he wondered silently to himself. 'What kind of father am I to expect my sons to live in that isolated environment for weeks at a time.' He pictured John, alone in the galley, eating his unappetising breakfast of space food and suddenly lost his own appetite. 'It's a form of child abuse!' he reasoned. 'Sure my children are old enough to make up their own minds... but would they? Are they that frightened of me that even as grown men they are still subservient to my wishes?' He looked around the table his eyes resting on Gordon, then Alan and finally Scott. All were staring at Virgil with an expression of something close to horror. 'And what kind of father am I to expect them to go out and risk their lives, to sustain horrible injuries?' His eyes moved over to Virgil, who'd resumed his breakfast. 'To destroy their lives. All because of my dream... I'm lucky... we're all lucky that none of them have been killed... But is it only a matter of time before we compose an epitaph for real?'  
  
*** 


	65. Ninety Six

Ninety Six - BF  
  
It was a glorious day.  
  
The sky was blue.  
  
The odd fluffy cloud sauntered past the window.  
  
Scott Tracy pushed the lever forward and felt the forces build up beneath him.  
  
He checked the gauges.  
  
All normal.  
  
He pushed the lever a fraction further forward.  
  
There was a slight swaying motion.  
  
Thunderbird One lifted up off the ground.  
  
He smiled to himself. "Just like riding a bike. You never forget."  
  
Thunderbird One gained height.  
  
He ran his eyes over the instruments again.  
  
All normal.  
  
He swung Thunderbird One around so that he could see the scene he was departing. From this vantage point he could make out the extent of the devastation.  
  
It had been a big earthquake. About 7.5 on the Richter scale. High-rise buildings had been toppled. He cruised low over the landscape, double checking that International Rescue would not be required elsewhere.  
  
He was just about to depart the scene when his instruments started blaring a warning.  
  
At the same moment the ground was rocked by a massive aftershock.  
  
The shockwaves were felt by Thunderbird One. The rocket plane shuddered violently. Scott fought the controls to keep his craft on an even keel.  
  
"What the..." he tried to gain height, but Thunderbird One wasn't responding to his commands.  
  
She began to tip to port.  
  
"Come on!" He urged as a warning light told him that he'd lost communication with the port wing. He had no way of knowing if it was extended or had swung back into Thunderbird One's fuselage. It may have even detached itself from the craft.  
  
Thinking quickly, he deduced that, whatever the problem, the port wing couldn't be fully extended, and flicked the switch that would retract the starboard one.  
  
He felt the juddering increase as the wing retracted into its housing.  
  
By now he was completely inverted, his body straining against his safety harness as he struggled to retain his grip on the controls.  
  
A building flashed by the cockpit windows.  
  
The ground sped past 'above' him.  
  
Gently he applied more power to the aft jets and prayed that they would at least allow him to gain more altitude.  
  
A proximity alarm alerted him to the fact that he was getting dangerously close to a stand of skyscrapers directly ahead.  
  
He mentally crossed his fingers and pushed forward on the controls.  
  
Thunderbird One responded by screaming skywards.  
  
When he reached 10,000 feet he eased off and managed to reorient the craft so that she was hovering horizontally, but he wasn't having to fight against gravity.  
  
He took a breath to try to get his racing heart back down to something resembling normalcy and the opened his radio communication.  
  
"Thunderbird One to Thunderbird Five."  
  
His brother responded. "Thunderbird Five. Go ahead Scott. Thunderbird Two reports you've got a problem."  
  
"The port wing computer's not responding, Alan. The wing's either locked in the home position, or I've lost it altogether."  
  
"Thunderbird Two reported that your port wing's retracted. How's she handling?"  
  
"It was a bit hairy for a moment there, but she's fine at the moment. I think I can get her home safely."  
  
"Are you sure you don't want to land and check her out?"  
  
"Negative. Controls are responding A-OK. Better to get back to base where Brains can have a proper look at her."  
  
"F-A-B. I'll alert Thunderbird Two to act as escort. If you need to ditch in the ocean they'll be on hand to pick you up."  
  
"Thanks, Alan."  
  
"Keep in contact and let me know if there's any change."  
  
"Will do."  
  
"Just make sure you get that 'bird home safely. Thunderbird Five out."  
  
Although he didn't have too far to travel, it still seemed to be an age to Scott. Eventually he saw the familiar peak of Tracy Island.  
  
"Thunderbird One to Base."  
  
"Base to Thunderbird One. Any problems, Scott?"  
  
"Negative Father. Thunderbird One's handling well at speed. She's a bit unsteady at lower cruising speeds."  
  
"How are you planning on landing her?"  
  
"Without the wings I don't have the stability to bring her down horizontally. I'll have to bring her in vertically. If I could slot her through the pool into her hanger it would make repairs easier."  
  
"Do you think she's responsive enough to attempt that?"  
  
"So far I've had no problems. I think we'll be okay."  
  
"All right son. I've got Thunderbird Two standing by to effect a rescue if need be. Everyone else has gone to the bunkers."  
  
"That's reassuring."  
  
"Just standard procedure." Jeff reminded him. "Keep this channel open. Let us know the first sign of trouble."  
  
"F-A-B."  
  
With infinite care Scott rotated his plane till she was in position above the open swimming pool. He gave his instrument panel one last check. "Right. I'm coming in now."  
  
"F-A-B." His father intoned. "Good Luck."  
  
"Thanks." Scott pulled back on the lever that started Thunderbird One's decent. She started dropping lower, getting closer and closer to her objective.  
  
The altimeter read out his height. 200 feet, 100, 50, 25, 10, five, four, three, two, one, zero, minus one, minus two, minus five, -10, -25, -50, -100, -200 feet.  
  
"Touchdown!" Scott exclaimed. He felt the clamps click home onto Thunderbird One's aft jet unit. They began the ride back up to the loading bay. He unclipped his safety harness.  
  
"Well done, Scott." Jeff stated. "Excellent flying."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"How would you feel about having a go with the real thing?"  
  
"What!" Scott vaulted out of the simulator and ran into the control room, skidding to a stop in front of his father. "Are you serious?!"  
  
"Well, Brains says your sight's good enough, and anyone who can handle Thunderbird One through the scenario we just put you through deserves the opportunity."  
  
It was like watching his son on Christmas morning all over again as Scott's face lit up. "You're not teasing me are you?"  
  
"Of course not. Go get ready... that's if you really want to..." Jeff had barely finished saying 'get ready' before Scott was out the door. He turned to Alan. "I guess he wants to."  
  
Alan grinned and shut down the Thunderbird Five simulator.  
  
***  
  
"What's all the excitement about? Is there a rescue?" Virgil asked Gordon.   
  
They were in the hallway and everyone was heading at speed in the direction of the lounge.  
  
"Scott's going to fly Thunderbird One!"  
  
"What! Really! That's great!" Virgil face brightened at the thought. "Solo?"  
  
"No. Alan'll go as backup. But Scott'll have the control."  
  
"He'll be that excited he'll probably take off without Thunderbird One." Virgil commented.  
  
"We're all going to watch the launch from the lounge." Gordon watched his brother closely. "Are you coming?"  
  
The smile slipped from Virgil's face. "No. It'll be too crowded. I'll watch from my window."  
  
"Mind if I join you?"  
  
The smile returned. "Sure!"  
  
***  
  
Scott's heart was pounding nearly as hard as it had been when the simulator had first alerted him to problems with 'Thunderbird One'. "Come on Alan. Get in here!"  
  
"I'm coming, I'm coming." Alan grumbled lightly. "I had to shut down the simulator computer. Someone neglected to shut down the Thunderbird One console."  
  
"Oops. Sorry." Scott apologised. "I'll make it up to you later. Have you got your safety harness on?"  
  
"I can't get this buckle..."  
  
"Alan!" Scott complained as he turned and saw his youngest sibling firmly strapped in, arms relaxed behind his head.  
  
"Okay. I'm ready."  
  
"I can see that." Scott set Thunderbird One on her downward slide into her launching bay.  
  
***  
  
Gordon looked at his watch. "They must be in the launch bay by now."  
  
Virgil placed his palms on the window. "If you rest your hands on the glass you can feel the sound waves from the jets." Gordon followed suit. "There! He's started them."  
  
Gordon felt and heard the roar of the jets simultaneously.  
  
***  
  
Despite his excitement, Scott tried to remember the protocol. "Thunderbird One. Requesting permission to launch."  
  
"Thunderbird One. Permission granted."  
  
"Ready Alan?"  
  
"I've been ready for the last five minutes!"  
  
Scott took a deep breath and pulled back on the controls. He felt the jets explode into life. He felt the forces on his body as gravity forced him back into his seat. He'd experienced this sensation many times over this past year, but this was the first time in that year that he'd been in control.  
  
The thought sent a thrill through his body.  
  
***  
  
"Go Scott!" Virgil cheered as the red nose cone appeared through the swimming pool.   
  
"Let 'er rip, brother." Gordon exclaimed. "Let's see what you can do!" He glanced back at Virgil noting the ecstatic expression on his older brother's face. Virgil flashed him a thumbs up signal, which Gordon returned.  
  
***  
  
"There he goes!" Jeff said. "Straight as an arrow!"  
  
"Alan's going to be in for a rough ride." Tin-Tin stated.  
  
"H-He'll love every minute." Brains smiled.  
  
"I hope they'll be careful." Grandma Tracy added a grandmotherly warning note.  
  
***  
  
They reached 100,000 feet before they levelled off.  
  
"I thought maybe you were planning on popping in to see John." Alan quipped.  
  
"Nope. Next time. Switching to horizontal flight." Scott skilfully rotated Thunderbird One so that she was coasting parallel to the earth's surface. "How about a quick trip to the States."  
  
"What are you planning to do when you get there?"  
  
"Turn around and come back again."  
  
"Exciting." Alan said dully. "You're the pilot."  
  
"Yes I am! Accelerating to 15,000 miles per hour..."  
  
***  
  
An hour later and Jeff was sitting at his desk sipping a cup of coffee when Scott's portrait came to life. "Go ahead, Scott."  
  
Scott's face was all smiles. "Thunderbird One. Requesting permission to land."  
  
"Thunderbird One. You are granted permission."  
  
***  
  
"That!" Scott exclaimed when they got back into the lounge. "Was absolutely brilliant!"  
  
"That." Alan echoed. "Was absolutely boring."  
  
"What did you do?" Tin-Tin asked.  
  
"15,000 miles per hour at 100,000 feet!" Scott was still in high spirits. "Brilliant!"  
  
"In a straight line. No spins, no barrel rolls, nothing!" Alan stated. "Boring!"  
  
"I'm saving something for next time." Scott protested. "Actually I thought I'd play it safe. But can I have another go tomorrow?" he looked at his father hopefully.  
  
"I don't know, Scott..." Jeff said thoughtfully. "You know International Rescue's policy on joy rides in the Thunderbirds."  
  
"It's a training flight!"  
  
"Oh, well. If you put it that way." Jeff grinned suddenly. "I'm pulling your leg. Of course you can. I want you to get as comfortable with your 'bird as you ever were."  
  
"Fantastic!" Scott practically floated from the lounge.  
  
Alan sighed. "I guess this means I'm relegated to being a bit player again. Or worse... having to be a passenger in Thunderbird Two. It's going to be like riding in a snail after spending all that time in Thunderbird One!"  
  
Gordon grinned. "Don't let Virgil hear you say that." Then he stopped, embarrassed. "Why'd I say that?"  
  
"What does he think of Scott flying again?" Alan asked.  
  
"He was thrilled for him. We were high-fiveing each other as you were disappearing into the stratosphere. How was Scott?"  
  
"Like a little kid. Anyone would think he'd never flown her before. It was like all his Christmases and birthday's rolled into one. He'll never get to sleep tonight." 


	66. Ninety Seven

Ninety Seven - BF  
  
Late that evening Scott went back to his bedroom. It had been a big day and he was exhausted, although still somewhat keyed up after his flight in Thunderbird One. His eyes were tired and just the thought of resting them made his eyelids droop.  
  
He'd closed the door behind him and made his way over to the bed when it'd dawned on him that he hadn't bothered turning on the light. He hadn't needed to. He grinned to himself as he reached over and flicked the switch beside his bed.  
  
The sudden glare hurt his eyes and he shut them momentarily before cautiously opening them again.  
  
Propped up against his pillow, the size of a large book, was a flat, rectangular parcel, wrapped in brown paper.  
  
Mystified, he gingerly picked it up and turned it over.  
  
There were no descriptive markings on the wrapping.  
  
He turned it over again and looked at it speculatively. Then he began to unwrap the parcel.  
  
The brown paper fell away to reveal a layer of tissue paper. He ripped this away, revealing yet a second layer of tissue. Soon this too was discarded on the floor.  
  
The back of a framed picture was presented to him.  
  
Hesitantly he turned it over.  
  
His breath caught in his throat.  
  
It was a portrait.  
  
A portrait of his family.  
  
He didn't need to look at the signature to identify the artist. The style and brushwork were clearly Virgil's.  
  
Scott's eyes flicked over each face in the painting, marvelling at the detail. A photograph couldn't have been more accurate.  
  
His Father's face was in the centre of the picture. In front of this image were seated Virgil, Gordon and Alan. Scott was to his left and John to his right. They were all dressed in International Rescue blue, but their distinctive sashes were missing.  
  
Behind them, her arms embracing them as if she were protecting them all, was his mother - Lucille Tracy. The golden glow from her aura reflected on her family.   
  
She was as beautiful as he remembered her.  
  
They all looked so happy together, a complete family embracing one another.  
  
There was a silver nameplate on the bottom part of the frame. Scott opened the drawer of his bedside cabinet and took out a magnifying glass. Holding it over the plate, he read the engraved lettering of this incredible painting.  
  
'Forgiven'  
  
There was a gentle knock at the door.  
  
He managed to find his voice. "Come in."  
  
The door remained shut.  
  
He got off his bed an opened the door.  
  
It slid back to reveal Virgil. He smiled shyly. "I see you found it."  
  
"It's incredible."  
  
"Well, initially, I thought a painting was more appropriate to mark you regaining your sight, than composing a tune would be. I had it ready to give to you after your operation, but then you weren't too well, and after that your sight wasn't that great, and then by the time you could see things up close, other things happened and it never seemed to be the right time..." His words were cut off by a by a bear hug from Scott. "Hey! You're choking me!"  
  
Scott released his grip. "Virgil... Thank you."   
  
"So, you like it?"  
  
Scott couldn't take his eyes off the painting. "I love it. This means... so much. In more ways than one. Do you mean it?"  
  
Virgil nodded and then spoke in his soft voice those words Scott had longed to hear for nearly a year. "I forgive you for what you said to me. I know you didn't mean it. The title came much later, after I'd finished the painting."  
  
"Thank you." Scott repeated again.  
  
There was a sound in the hall. "I thought you boys had gone to bed." Jeff stated.  
  
Scott reversed the picture so his father could see it. "Have you seen what Virgil painted for me?"  
  
"No." Jeff took the portrait. They noticed that his hands lost their steadiness as he took in the detail. "Virgil..." he looked up. "This is amazing. It's quite possibly the best thing you've ever painted."   
  
Virgil reddened modestly.  
  
"There's no possibly about it, it's definitely your finest work. Mind you I haven't seen most of what you've painted over the past year." Scott's already wide smile, widened some more. "I'm flattered that you think I'm worthy of receiving it." He took it back off his father and looked at it in awe. "It's us to a T. It's incredible."  
  
Virgil went even redder.  
  
"You know," Scott said thoughtfully, "as much as I'd like to keep this in here, all to myself, I think it's something the whole family should be able to share. Would you both mind if I found somewhere in the lounge to hang it?"  
  
"Good idea Scott." Jeff agreed. "Are you okay with this Virgil?"  
  
Virgil shrugged non-committedly. "Sure. I don't mind."  
  
"Do you want to help me find somewhere to hang it?" Scott asked him.  
  
Virgil hesitated. "No. I'm sure you'll find somewhere suitable."  
  
Jeff yawned. "Well I'm off to bed. I'll see you boys in the morning. Good night."  
  
"'Night!" Scott was still gazing at his painting.  
  
Jeff looked at Virgil. Good one. he signed.  
  
Virgil smiled. Thanks. 'Night.   
  
Jeff retreated to his room.  
  
"It's been a big day." Virgil commented.  
  
"Hmmn?" Scott looked up. 'Uh. Yes it has. Look, I know where Grandma's hidden the chocolate cake. What say we go and have a midnight snack to celebrate?"  
  
"It's only 11 pm."  
  
"Okay, an 11 pm snack."   
  
Virgil grinned. "Okay. I know where she'd hidden the cake too."  
  
*** 


	67. Ninety Eight

Ninety Eight - BF  
  
In the kitchen Scott found the chocolate cake and took it to the dining table. He was in the process of getting a couple of plates when he heard a sigh behind him.  
  
Virgil was staring into the cutlery drawer.  
  
Scott walked over so that he was able to lean against the counter beside the drawer. That way Virgil's Comm-specs could pick up his speech. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Oh nothing." Virgil took a couple of forks out of the drawer and shut it. "It's just every now and then I remember something that I can't hear. I had a sudden wish to be able to hear the cutlery clanking together. I've never thought anything of it before and then all of a sudden I miss it!"  
  
"I know what you mean." Scott admitted. "Years ago John had swiped Gordon's spear gun and was hiding from him in my bedroom. He managed to rip the wallpaper with the gun. It really irritated me, that rip. I'd wake up in the morning, resolve to fix it before the end of the day, leave my room, forget about it, come back in the evening, and there was that rip still in the wallpaper. Still irritating me! And then I lost my sight. And one of the things I initially missed seeing was that annoying rip in my wallpaper. It's also one of the first things I forgot. I remembered how the important things looked, like you guys, but I forgot the unimportant ones, like that rip. Now I can't decide whether to repair it or frame it!" He took the plates to the table.  
  
Virgil followed him over and took a seat. "So it does get easier does it?"  
  
"Easier? I don't know. You grow to accept it, and, like I said, forget the unimportant things." He cut two generous wedges of cake and placed them on the plates.  
  
"It's not as bad for me as what you went through though is it."  
  
"I don't know. I don't know what you are going through. You haven't said much. I'd imagine it's totally different."  
  
"I would think so. Initially you were helpless. I'm not."  
  
"But you've lost one of your senses. That's got to be a shock. How are you managing to keep so calm over this."  
  
"I think it would be a bit hypocritical for me to go to pieces after I told you to get your act together."  
  
"But that was after I'd learnt to cope, when I'd regained some control." Scott touched Virgil on the arm to ensure that he had his full attention. "It's okay to be scared, or angry. It's only natural. Remember I've been there, done that, didn't think much of the view."  
  
"So what are you expecting me to do?"  
  
"Yell, scream..."  
  
"...Break the furniture."  
  
"I don't think you'd be popular, but everyone would understand. Or there's plenty of places on the island where you could go and yell your head off and no one would need hear you."  
  
"Including me."  
  
There was no answer to that statement.  
  
"What would it achieve, Scott?"  
  
"You might feel better."  
  
"Honestly, I don't know that it would!"  
  
"There must be something you feel like doing."  
  
"No."  
  
Scott looked at his brother. "You're a worry."  
  
"A what? Don't talk with your mouth full. The Comm-specs can't understand you. I read it as 'florry'."  
  
Scott swallowed the mouthful of cake. "Sorry. A worry."  
  
"Well, that's better than a florry."  
  
"Whatever that is." Scott grinned.  
  
"Can I ask you a hypothetical question?" Virgil looked earnestly at his brother.  
  
"Shoot."   
  
"If you were out on a rescue, and you had the chance to rescue one person, but in doing so you knew there was every possibility that you'd be permanently blinded again. Would you do it?"  
  
"Possibly, probably or definitely blinded?"  
  
"Um... probably." Virgil decided.  
  
Scott thought about the question. "Speaking hypothetically. Yes. I think I would. I know I can cope being blind. But having said that I'd take every precaution to avoid it happening again." He waited to see if Virgil was going to comment on his answer. When it became clear he wasn't, he returned his attention to his cake.  
  
"Do you know what I really miss hearing?" Virgil asked suddenly.  
  
Scott looked at him. "Is this a trick question?"  
  
"Laughter."  
  
"Laughter?"  
  
Virgil gave a small smile. "Yes laughter. I suddenly realised how much laughter there is in this family."  
  
"Such as?"  
  
"Gordon laughing to himself, and you just know that next time you put your boots on there's going to be something disgusting in there that he's swiped from the lab... Alan and Tin-Tin giggling together when they think there's no one else about... John, when he's just come home after his tour of duty in Thunderbird Five, and is trying to get used to being around people again. You..."  
  
"Me?"  
  
"That snort you do when something's happened that you think you should be all 'big brother serious and reproachful' over, but you really think is quite funny. And then you try to disguise it as a sneeze. That's the kind of thing I miss."  
  
"I do that?"  
  
"You do that!"  
  
"Oh." Scott mused. "Laughter."  
  
"You thought I was going to say music, didn't you."  
  
"I did actually."  
  
Virgil cut into his cake. "I do. I miss it terribly. I go into my bedroom and go to turn on the stereo and it's not there. And that hurts. But I miss hearing you guys more."  
  
"I know what you mean..." Then Scott gave a chuckle. "Way back when I'd just come home from rehabilitation, I asked Father if he knew what I'd wish for if I was going to be allowed to see just one thing. I'm pretty sure he was expecting me to say Thunderbird One."  
  
"And you weren't?" Virgil asked in surprise.  
  
"No I wasn't."  
  
"Well what did you wish for?"  
  
Scott looked at his brother. "I wished to see you. To show you that I didn't mean what I'd said." He looked Virgil full in the face. "I got my wish."  
  
"Just shows you should be careful what you wish for then, doesn't it." Virgil grinned embarrassedly.  
  
"I'm glad I got my wish... It's a bit hard getting used to seeing you behind those glasses though."  
  
Virgil removed the Comm-specs and looked at them. "There're not exactly a fashion statement are they. Still, they work." He rubbed his eyes. "My eyes get a bit tired after reading all day though."  
  
Can I try them? Scott took the Comm-specs and put them on his own face.  
  
Virgil burst out laughing. "Is that what I look like?"  
  
How do they work? Scott started to say and then stopped when he saw his words appear before his eyes. That's so weird. Doesn't it drive you crazy seeing everything you say?   
  
"No. I'll bet you're not reading anything now. It's the way Brains has programmed them."  
  
"Clever." Scott handed them back. A devilish look crept into his eye "So if I were to say 'the quick brown fox h..."  
  
Virgil laughed again. "I wonder what Penny would have said if we'd explained it to her."  
  
"She'd have probably laughed too. It's Parker would have been horrified that we'd even think of saying such a thing to 'M'lady'."  
  
"He'd think we were a pair of uncouth Yanks."  
  
"Ever met a 'couth' one?"  
  
"No. I don't think there is such a thing." Virgil took off the Comm-specs again to examine them. "I wonder how these would cope with Parker's speech. All those dropped aspirates must be murder to read. I'd have to get Brains to do something about it. He reckoned he could remove his stutter."  
  
"We're lucky we've got Brains..."  
  
"You mean with a capital B don't you." Virgil chuckled. "I've found a glitch in the Comm-specs, they spell Brains with a lower case B. Different meaning altogether."  
  
"Yeah." Scott grinned. "I'm not too sure if we've got the lower case B one. No, what I was saying was that the upper case one has really helped us both over the past year or so."  
  
"And without him International Rescue would never have got off the ground. Literally."  
  
"Yes." Scott had a mouthful of cake and took another look at the painting, which he'd placed on the table. "I can't believe that you'd be willing to give such a masterpiece to me, after what I did."  
  
"I know you didn't mean it. The problem was that I'd only just convinced myself that no one else would think that the accident was my fault, including Ma, when you said that very thing."  
  
"I'm sorry..."  
  
"And then I started thinking, if Scott thinks that, maybe Ma did too. That's what really hurt."  
  
"She wouldn't. I'm positive she wouldn't." Scott reiterated.   
  
"I told myself that you didn't mean it. That you were just angry... But every now and then over this past year you'd say something, or do something that made me wonder..."  
  
"I did!" Scott said, alarmed.  
  
"Under normal circumstances I would have thought it was just normal banter, but it set me wondering..."  
  
"Such as?"  
  
"You hitting me!"  
  
"But you forgave me for that!"  
  
"I did. It was afterwards that I started wondering if maybe it was more than just frustration that caused you to lash out."  
  
"Is that all?"  
  
"No. I know this is going to sound soppy, but do you realise that tonight was the first time that you've given me a hug in years?"  
  
"A hug? I gave you one before my operation."  
  
"No. I gave it to you."  
  
"There's a difference?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"But you know I'm not into that physical affection stuff. None of us are."  
  
"I know. But when you came home after being in rehab everyone else got one. Even Brains and Kyrano. You put me into a headlock. Normal behaviour. Just what you'd usually do. But for a moment I wondered was it because you were behaving as normal, after all it'd only been a couple of weeks since we'd last seen each other and we'd travelled home together.... Or was it because you really didn't want to get that close to me."  
  
"Normal behaviour."  
  
"I know. But for a moment I wondered."  
  
Scott looked at him, a pained look on his face. "I hate the idea that I hurt you so much... so much that you couldn't believe in me. Under normal circumstances that's the last thing I would want to do. Unfortunately that day in rehab circumstances weren't normal... You disappeared for a few hours afterwards. Where'd you go?"  
  
"I went down to the beach. You know the one that's two miles away from the facility. I don't even remember walking there."  
  
"I'm sorry." Scott repeated.  
  
"I know. And I forgive you."  
  
"If you knew how I've long I've wanted to hear you say that. I thought you were still hurting, every now and then I'd sense that something was wrong, but I couldn't believe that you wouldn't say something. No one else appeared to notice anything wrong, so I thought maybe it was my imagination, that I was still feeling guilty. Until the day before my operation when Kyrano asked if we were okay... I guess it's true what they say about there being none so blind as those who won't see. That described me perfectly. That's why I wanted to talk to you. I wasn't worried about the machine. I was worried about us. You gave me a hang of a fright when you blew up at me."  
  
"I know. I'm sorry. And I'm sorry for the way I've been behaving the last few weeks.  
  
"You've been avoiding me."  
  
"Yes I have. I was that embarrassed over what I said to you that night, I didn't think I could face you. "  
  
"You were embarrassed!" Scott was amazed. "I thought you still hadn't forgiven me. "  
  
"You did!? No, my talk with Father sorted me out on that score. I thought maybe you wouldn't like me anymore. "  
  
"Not like you! Is your self esteem that low that you'd think that I could ever not like you?"  
  
"But I've always looked up to you. And then I go and tell you that I hate you. I know how much those words hurt me... and I didn't like the idea that I'd done the same to you."  
  
"Virgil...!" Scott sighed. "Why didn't we talk earlier? "  
  
"I tried. A couple of times I tried. But something always happened. Tin-Tin would fall into the ocean or I'd manage to get myself blown up." Virgil gave a wry grin.  
  
"I tried to talk to you too. I even got Father to help. He got everyone out of our hair so that we wouldn't be interrupted, and I locked the door behind you so you'd have to stay and listen."  
  
"And I wanted to apologise then, for the way I was behaving. I was sitting there thinking 'come on Virgil, say it', you'd stop talking and I'd go to open my mouth, and you'd start off again!"  
  
"And then the alarm went off."  
  
"And then the alarm went off."  
  
They were silent for a moment.  
  
"You know the last thing you said to me after you'd 'kidnapped' me... You didn't mean that did you." Virgil said hesitantly, toying with his slice of cake.  
  
"That you hadn't... that I hadn't said all I wanted to say?"  
  
"No, before the alarm went off."  
  
"Um... what did I say?" Scott frowned as he tried to remember.  
  
"Don't worry about it. It doesn't matter." Virgil said hastily.  
  
"No... what did I say." Scott was still frowning.  
  
"That... when you look at me you don't see Ma..." Virgil began reluctantly.  
  
"Oh that!" Scott's face cleared. "It's true. I don't see Ma. I see you. I see my hero."  
  
"You were only saying that weren't you?"  
  
"No I wasn't! That's the truth! I don't tell lies."  
  
"Do you want to amend that comment?" Virgil asked wryly as he helped himself to some more cake.  
  
"Uh, yeah, I guess I'd better. I don't tell lies unless under extreme provocation when everything is out of my control."  
  
"But why me. I thought maybe Father, or someone in the Air Force, or someone else. Anyone but me. I'm not heroic!"  
  
"You're a member of International Rescue! Of course you're heroic! Why are you MY hero? Because of the way you don't give up. Because of the numerous times we've been out on a rescue and things have seemed hopeless and you've still been willing to risk your neck and get stuck in. Because of the way whenever things have been hard for me you've been there to support me. Everyone else seems to lean on me, and there's been times I've needed to be able to lean on someone else. Because of the way you helped me through Regnad and later in rehab. Because, no matter what I've done to you, you've still been there for me. Because you've got talents that I'd kill to possess."  
  
"Talents?"  
  
"I'm jealous of your skill with your painting and drawing, and... forgive me for saying this... playing the piano. I'm proud to call you my brother!"  
  
"Oh." Virgil said quietly. "Thank you."  
  
Scott felt the need to fill in the silence that followed and helped himself to the last of the cake.  
  
"I guess I don't need to give up totally on International Rescue do I." Virgil said quietly.  
  
"No of course not."  
  
"But I can't help with rescues anymore."  
  
"Not necessarily!"  
  
"Face it, Scott. If I can't hear I'm useless! Take yesterday... When I think how easily I could have walked right past you and not even realised you were in trouble. You could have died and I wouldn't have known."  
  
"But I didn't die. You saved my life!"  
  
"No, I'll have to accept that can't take part in rescues anymore. But I can help Brains and Tin-Tin with research and development. Or I can take charge of the maintenance. That way when you guys come home from a rescue, you can relax and get in your debriefing, and I can check over your craft and prepare them for the next call out."  
  
"That's a good idea!"  
  
"And perhaps... sometimes... if it's a simple transportation job... I could still fly Thunderbird Two?"  
  
"It's a thought."  
  
"Or, outside of International Rescue, I could be personal pilot to Mr Jeff Tracy."  
  
"You'd spend more time in the passenger seat. You know he likes to fly himself."  
  
"Yes. I guess that's not an option."  
  
"I don't know. Talk it over with him. There might be times when he'd like to be able to concentrate on work, or he might appreciate the company."  
  
"I'm going to miss being out there on rescues with you guys."  
  
"And we'll miss you." Scott sat back. "You've been really thinking about your future haven't you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"That's what you need to do. Think about what you can do, we'll help with what you can't and don't sweat the small stuff."  
  
"Then I shouldn't worry about losing my music..."  
  
"I didn't say that..."  
  
Virgil dropped his fork on the plate. "Why do I feel as though someone's died?"  
  
"Come on, Virgil. There's not a person in this place who doesn't know how important your music is to you. I remember being dragged along kicking and screaming to piano lessons. You went willingly. Were all making excuses why we shouldn't go and you're sitting in the car yelling at us to hurry up so you wouldn't be late. I'm surprised we didn't send Father totally crackers... not to mention what the neighbours must have thought with all that yelling."  
  
Virgil groaned. "What was that epitaph about us eating too much cake? I think it's about to come true." He looked at the platter that now held nothing but crumbs. "Grandma's going to be annoyed with us tomorrow."  
  
"We'll clean up and she won't even know it was us who did it. We can blame Alan and Gordon." Scott started clearing the table.  
  
"That wouldn't be fair though, would it?" Virgil rose to help.  
  
"Is it fair that they keep on calling us old?"  
  
"No... I wouldn't mind, but I'm not that much older than those guys! How come they treat me as if I'm..." a grin formed on Virgil's face, "...as old as you?"  
  
"Hey watch it! Or you might find yourself being labelled as the sole culprit..." Scott's grin matched Virgil's. "...Or a florry."  
  
"Better than a worry."  
  
They finished the washing up and guiltily replaced the dishes.   
  
Scott picked up his picture. "What say we go and find somewhere to hang this now."  
  
"No. It's too late. We'll wake everyone with the drill."  
  
"We don't have to hang it now. I just want your advice as to where's the best place to put it."  
  
"I'm sure wherever you come up with will be fine." Virgil protested.  
  
"Come on, Virgil! It's time you started thinking about joining us in the lounge again. You can't avoid it forever."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Now don't go all defensive on me. It's been pretty obvious to everyone that you've been steering clear of the lounge... and what's in there."  
  
Virgil went quiet.  
  
"If I tell you something silly about me and my blindness, will you consider going into there now?" Scott asked quietly.  
  
"How silly?"  
  
"Really silly."  
  
Virgil managed a slight grin. "You've got me curious now."  
  
"Is it a deal?"  
  
Virgil hesitated. "Yeah, okay," he said reluctantly.  
  
"Okay then." Scott took a deep breath.  
  
Virgil waited.  
  
"I haven't looked in a mirror since I got my sight back."  
  
Virgil stared at him. "You what?!"  
  
"I haven't looked in a mirror."  
  
"It's been two months! Why? How?"  
  
"I've been blind for a year. I've seen how you've all changed in that time, maybe not a lot, but you all have. You're all that little older. It's been a hard year and I can see it in your faces..."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And... I don't know if I want to see it in mine."  
  
"But how have you managed to avoid using a mirror?"  
  
"I haven't needed one." Scott gave a slight chuckle. "Obviously I can cope without using one. Shaving's not a problem, and neither's doing my hair or anything else that you would usually use a mirror for. When I get up in the morning it's still dark, so I don't turn the light on. My bedroom mirror was plastered with Braille messages, and I haven't removed them. I look away when I go past any other mirrors."  
  
Virgil stood for a moment in shock. "Scott." He said seriously. "That has got to be one of the most amazing things I've heard." He shook his head. "Also one of the most ridiculous. You haven't changed that much."  
  
"Yes but any change has been gradual for you, you've had a chance to get used to it. For me... it's as if I've leapt forward a year into the future."  
  
Virgil looked at him. "Hang on a moment." He left the room for a few minutes. When he came back he carried an envelope. He sat down in one of the chairs, opened the envelope and rifled through the contents. "Ah, just what I want." He pulled out a piece of paper and handed it over to Scott. "That's an old photo of you."  
  
Scott took the photo and looked at it. It was a head and shoulder shot of him and Gordon. They were both laughing at something. "I don't remember this one. When was it taken?"  
  
"Two days before your operation."  
  
"When I was blind?"  
  
Virgil nodded. "Any difference?"  
  
Scott studied the photo more closely. "No... not that I can see... But then you can never tell with a photo can you."  
  
Virgil handed over the envelope. "There's more in there. See what you think."  
  
Tentatively Scott took the envelope. He stared at it for a moment, then his curiosity got the better of him. He placed the painting on the dining table, removed the envelope's contents and started going through the photos.  
  
Virgil watched his face as a grin grew in size. "Who took these?"  
  
"Grandma. Who else?"  
  
"I should have guessed." Scott glanced at Virgil as he removed the top photo and placed it at the back of the pack. He looked back down and his grin disappeared. "You sneak!"  
  
"So. Have you changed?"  
  
Scott placed his hand over the paper-sized mirror and frowned at his younger brother. "What'd you do that for?"  
  
"So that you could see that you've got nothing to fear."  
  
"I'm not frightened... I just don't want to look..." Scott said lamely.  
  
"Okay then," Virgil held out his hand, "give me back the mirror."  
  
He wondered for a moment if his bluff was going to be called, before Scott looked back down at his hand hiding the glass. He shifted his grip so that the mirror was reflecting the ceiling. "There's nothing to be frightened of, is there?" he said quietly.  
  
"Nothing!" Virgil stated firmly.  
  
Slowly Scott rotated the mirror so that it was pointing at his face. Slowly the smile returned. "Hey! Not bad. Hello handsome!" He shifted the angle of the mirror so he could get a better look. "I guess I've still got it."  
  
"What? That ego the size of North America?"  
  
"No. I have very kind, supportive, thoughtful, younger brother. Thank you."  
  
Virgil smiled. "You're welcome."  
  
Scott had another look at the photos before he placed them back into the envelope and picked up the painting again. "So! Are you coming into the lounge now?"  
  
*** 


	68. Ninety Nine

Ninety Nine - BF  
  
Scott flicked the switch that turned on the lights in the lounge. He walked in confidently and placed the portrait on his father's desk. "Right! Where do you think...?" He turned round. Virgil was nowhere to be seen. "Where is he?" He strode back to the doorway.  
  
Virgil was standing just inside the room. "I'm here. Are you happy? Can we go to bed now?"  
  
"No! Come on. There's nothing in here that's going to bite you." He returned back to where he started.  
  
Reluctantly Virgil took two steps forward and stopped. Scott was by now back at the desk. He turned and strode back towards his brother. "Come on" he said firmly. "You can't go through life without coming in here."  
  
"I've managed okay these last few weeks."  
  
Scott didn't give him any further say in the matter. He dragged him to the centre of the room. "There! See! You're all right! Now where are we going to hang this painting?" He kept a firm grip on Virgil's arm.  
  
He'd positioned Virgil so that he was facing the piano. A plain white dust cloth had been placed over it, but despite that its outline was clearly visible. He felt his brother stiffen at the sight of the instrument and felt sorry for him, but reasoned that Virgil needed to face up the realities of life in the Tracy household. If for no other reason than to release the emotions that he was trapping inside himself.  
  
He released his grip when Virgil took a step forward.  
  
Slowly Virgil walked towards the piano. Hesitantly he reached out towards it before finally placing a hand on the cloth. The hand clenched into a fist and he drew the cloth off gradually until the white, wooden surface was exposed. He hugged the cloth close as he stared at the instrument, before once again placing his right hand on it. His fingers traced the piano's outline until he reached the keyboard.  
  
He sat on the piano stool.  
  
Scott walked over so that he was able to lean on the piano, within range of Virgil's Comm-specs. "Are you okay?"  
  
Virgil nodded numbly. He dropped the dust cloth onto the floor beside the stool and placed both hands on the keyboard lid. He held them there for a moment before he swung the lid back.  
  
The black and white keys stared at him. Mocking him in their silence.  
  
"You don't have to do any more." Scott stated.  
  
Virgil removed the Comm-specs and dropped them on top of the dust cloth, effectively breaking off communication with his brother. He wanted to proceed at his own pace.  
  
With heavy heart Scott watched him as several times he reached for a key, drawing back each time before he made contact.  
  
Virgil steeled himself and pressed middle C with his right forefinger. Then he looked at Scott. "Did it make a sound?"  
  
"Yes." Scott nodded.  
  
Virgil placed his left hand on the top of the piano and pressed middle C again with his right. This time he felt the vibrations run through the instrument.  
  
He withdrew his hands.  
  
"Do you remember when Father bought this?" he suddenly asked.  
  
Yes I do. You were over the moon, and the rest of us were totally unimpressed. I wondered why he'd want to waste money on a new piano, when the old upright was perfectly adequate. Then I heard you play it for the first time and realised that, while I'd always known you were good, I was now getting an idea of how good you really were.   
  
"Do you remember what I played?"  
  
Not really. Scott said apologetically.  
  
"This." Virgil placed his hands on the keyboard and began to play.  
  
He played the piece right through from beginning to end, his eyes closed as he imagined the sounds that flowed from his fingers.  
  
To Scott, it was a poignant moment as he watched his brother play the lilting melody. He wished he had a magic wand. Something, so that he could enable Virgil to enjoy the music just as he was.  
  
As the final notes dissipated Virgil placed his hands back in his lap. He looked at Scott. "How did it sound?"  
  
Great. Most people would be happy to be able to play like that.   
  
"But would I be happy?"  
  
Scott had to be truthful. No.   
  
Virgil slammed the keyboard lid down with an air of finality and lent on it, his chin resting on his clenched hands, staring at the white finish.  
  
Scott wondered what he should do.  
  
He watched in horror as Virgil started to cry.  
  
The last time that Scott Tracy had seen any of his brothers cry, they'd all been children. They'd grown up to be strong, and in some respects hardened against the cruelties of life. You had to be hard in the rescue game or else you'd soon find yourself a cot case. Being hard didn't mean you were immune to the sorrow and fury of failures and missed opportunities, but it helped you to cope... Usually.  
  
Each member of the household had their own mechanism when they needed to vent their emotions.  
  
Scott realised that Virgil had lost his principal outlet.   
  
Virgil pushed himself back on the stool, away from the piano. "This is why I didn't want to come in here," he said angrily as he vainly tried to wipe away the tears that continued to flow.  
  
That's why I dragged you in here now, when there's no one else about, Scott said helplessly, so you'd get it out of your system. But I didn't think that you'd...   
  
Virgil leant forward, so his forearms were resting on the closed keyboard and his forehead was on his arms. His sobs became louder.  
  
Scott moved towards him tentatively. "I'm sorry." He touched his brother on the back.  
  
"Leave me alone!" Virgil sat up and pushed Scott away.  
  
"Don't push me away... Let me help." Scott pleaded. He placed his arm about Virgil's shoulders. "Please let me help you!"  
  
This time Virgil allowed Scott to draw him into a comforting embrace. Although uncomfortable with the physical contact, Scott held him close.   
  
"I'm scared." Virgil managed to say.  
  
"I know. It's okay. It's okay to be scared..."  
  
"I'm really scared!"  
  
"I know."  
  
"Is everything all right, Scott?" He heard a deep voice come from the shadows behind them.  
  
"Everything's fine, Father. Go back to bed." Scott replied, trying not to change his tone or manner.  
  
There was silence from the shadows.  
  
Finally Virgil felt that he'd got it together enough to push Scott away again. "I'm sorry." He wiped his eyes.  
  
That phrase is getting a real work out tonight. Scott smiled. It's not necessary this time. You said yourself it felt as if someone had died. You're grieving.   
  
"Where's my Comm-specs?" Virgil asked looking about.  
  
Scott retrieved them from the top of the dust cloth.  
  
Virgil wiped his eyes with his handkerchief before he put them on. "Don't want them going rusty," he joked weakly.  
  
Scott smiled again and waited till the glasses were operational. "Do you feel better now?"  
  
"No." Virgil said truthfully. He looked downwards. "I'm scared, Scott."  
  
"I know. It's okay to be scared."  
  
"Send me into a collapsing building. Not a problem. Shoot Thunderbird Two out from under me. No worries." Scott gave a little grin. "But this!" Virgil continued on... "This... I feel as if I'm being attacked from inside my head. As if there's someone inside my brain chipping away at my sanity. I don't know that I can cope..." He whispered something that Scott couldn't hear.  
  
"What was that Virg.?"  
  
"I think I'm going crazy, Scott." Virgil repeated softly.  
  
"Will we ever notice the difference?" Scott joked, trying to lighten the mood.  
  
Virgil's expression didn't change.  
  
"Are you serious?"  
  
Virgil nodded.  
  
"Why!"  
  
"Lots of reasons."  
  
"Such as?"  
  
"Look at me! I'm falling to pieces! I've suddenly turned into a big baby? I haven't cried like this since... since... the avalanche, and here I am bawling my eyes out twice in as many months."   
  
"I know. But you've had your reasons. That doesn't make you crazy."  
  
"And..." Then Virgil looked at his brother. "How do you know?"  
  
"That night... I... I wanted to talk to you... so I went to your room... but I could hear you... so I came back out here." Scott said hesitantly.  
  
"Oh." Virgil said quietly. Then he stood abruptly and walked over to the window so he was looking out over the beach and the black ocean. He turned back so he was leaning against the glass, facing Scott. "What's happening to me?"   
  
"You're not crazy. You're only human. At least you're brave enough to let someone else see you cry. Not like me..."  
  
"You!? I don't remember ever seeing you break down. Well not like this. You got angry."  
  
"And took it out on everyone else. That's because I pushed everyone away. I didn't let anyone see me cry."  
  
"When did you...?" Virgil was confused by this admission.  
  
"That first month in rehab. There wasn't a night when I didn't have a soggy pillow. I was lucky it didn't go mouldy on me..."  
  
"I didn't realise."  
  
"No. I couldn't risk anyone thinking I wasn't big, and tough, and in control. That I was scared, and confused, and wanted to go home to where everything was safe and familiar. I wanted to be protected by my family. I was away from you guys... I felt isolated..."  
  
"I feel that now, and you're all here."  
  
"I know. We don't make it easy for you do we."  
  
Virgil turned back to the window and looked out at the stars.  
  
Scott went and stood beside him so that they could talk. "Believe me. You are not going crazy."  
  
Virgil opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again.  
  
"You've got other reasons for thinking that haven't you." Scott pressed him.  
  
Virgil nodded and took a breath. "Brains and the Professor can't find a reason for my hearing loss."  
  
"I know. It's got us all beat."  
  
"They think it might be something psychological."  
  
Scott stared at his brother. Then a smile slowly formed on his lips. "But that's great! There could be a cure after all..."  
  
"NO!" Virgil exclaimed. "Don't you understand? We can't do anything!"  
  
"But why?"  
  
"I'd have to tell someone about International Rescue."  
  
"I'm sure Father wouldn't mind. Not in this instance..."  
  
"And it could destroy all our hard work!"  
  
"Not necessarily! Maybe one of our agents is a psychologist?"  
  
"Who'd have to keep records. Okay, we find someone who is loyal to International Rescue and our ideals. But what if someone finds out they're helping me, someone out to get International Rescue's secrets..."  
  
"Now you're being silly. How could anyone find out?"  
  
"A burglary, a computer hacker, a fire and some innocent person helps to save the records and just happens to mention what they inadvertently glanced at to someone not so innocent. It's a weak link, Scott. I'm the weak link."  
  
"And if that happens we'll just shut down International Rescue."  
  
"And how many lives could be lost because we're not there to save them. And it's not only that, is it? Someone finds out that we're International Rescue. We may be isolated on this island, but we're not completely out of reach of the outside world. A plane, a fast boat, and we could have trouble..."  
  
"We can take them."  
  
"Here we can. But do you want to be locked away here for the rest of your life? And it's not us they'd be after would it. They'd want Brains, since he designed the technology. They'd want Father who had the money..."  
  
"They wouldn't help them." Scott stated confidently.  
  
"So they'd look for leverage. Some way to force them into doing what they don't want to. They'd work on us five..."  
  
"And wouldn't get anywhere!"  
  
"I agree. But would you want Tin-Tin and Kyrano to go through that? And what about Grandma?! If anything happened to her it would be my fault!"  
  
"You've really thought about this haven't you?" Scott said quietly.  
  
"You're not to tell Father, Scott! He goes through enough guilt every time one of us gets injured. This'd kill him. And destroy International Rescue. You said yourself that you'd risk being blinded again if it meant saving a life. That's just what I'm doing now!"  
  
"Oh, Virgil..." Scott hoped his father had taken his advice and gone to bed. He didn't want him to have heard this exchange. "I'm sorry."  
  
Virgil gave a grim smile. "Who's wearing out that phrase now? Look forget all this. Maybe I'll get lucky." He looked desolate.  
  
On impulse Scott pulled him into a hug before releasing him. "I promise I won't say anything. But I will talk to Brains. The poor guy's been on edge for days and now I know why. But I want you to promise to talk to me if you ever need to, okay? Don't hide away or bottle it up. Talk to me!"  
  
"You know how hard that can be." Virgil said ironically. "How long have we been trying to talk to each other? It's been months!"  
  
"Yes." Scott sighed. "We could have some secret phrase that only us two will know. So then we can make time together."  
  
"Something that would sound innocent to everyone else."  
  
"I know!" Scott snapped his fingers. "You could say that you feel like having some chocolate cake!"  
  
"And if I really do?"  
  
"Tell Grandma."  
  
Virgil smiled. "Don't you ever be afraid to ask me for 'chocolate cake' either. I think we've both needed tonight's talk."  
  
Scott agreed. Then he yawned. "What's the time?" He looked at his watch. "Three twenty! No wonder I'm tired. It's been a big day."  
  
They wandered back down the hallway. Scott eyed the shadows and listened for any sound from his father. He heard nothing.  
  
When they got to Virgil's bedroom door, he stopped Scott from entering by signing without speaking. I'm not that big a baby that I need you to tuck me in. he grinned sheepishly.  
  
Mindful of the others in the household, Scott signed silently too. I haven't thought of you as a baby since you were five... he smiled.  
  
Five?   
  
Up till then you were definitely an annoying little baby, always pestering your big brother. Until you got stuck in, helping to dig the snow away... his face pained at the memory. That was when you grew up in my eyes. That's when I began to see you as an equal. He looked at his painting for a moment. Do you know what I've had to live with since Ma died? That she only knew me as a bratty kid who was always in trouble.   
  
I don't think so. Virgil replied. I think she knew your true nature. And... this is going to sound silly, but I think she's keeping an eye on us. I think she's proud of you.   
  
No. Scott said thoughtfully. I don't think that's silly. I think you're right. Except she's proud of all of us.   
  
Thank you for talking, and listening. Virgil opened his door. I'll talk to you in the morning. Good night.   
  
Night. 


	69. One Hundred!

One Hundred!  
  
  
  
  
  
Virgil awoke to the familiar sound. He groaned and pulled his pillow over his head in a vain attempt to block the noise out.  
  
He was surprised when it worked.  
  
Cautiously he removed the pillow and looked about him.   
  
Everything seemed as it had been when he went to bed in the early hours of the morning.  
  
He looked at the clock.   
  
It read ten thirty.  
  
He'd slept in. It was a wonder someone hadn't been in to see if he was okay. Scott had probably told them to let him sleep.  
  
He smiled to himself. Despite the late night he was pretty sure that Scott would have been up at his usual time of 5 am. Maybe he would have allowed himself the luxury of an extra half hour sack time, but that would be all.  
  
He wondered if Scott had turned the light on this morning.  
  
Virgil sat on the edge of the bed and in doing so knocked his book to the floor.  
  
It fell silently and lay there, pages exposed. He picked it up and put it back on the table.  
  
As he did so he experienced a strange sensation. Almost as if he'd heard something.  
  
He dismissed the idea, deciding that he was still half asleep and went into the bathroom to try to wake himself up.  
  
He turned on the tap.  
  
The sound of running water greeted him.  
  
He stared into the hand basin, not believing what his senses were telling him.  
  
He looked at his reflection. "Am I hearing?" he asked himself.  
  
He couldn't hear the words.  
  
He knocked on the mirror.   
  
His image knocked silently back.  
  
He picked up his toothbrush and tapped the glass.  
  
He definitely heard something.  
  
He tried tapping other things. The metal taps and enamel basin produced the desired result, but wooden and plaster fixtures were silent.  
  
He dropped the toothbrush back in its holder and thought.  
  
He needed a more scientific test. Something that could produce different pitches...  
  
***   
  
"The police have tracked them down." John said. "The Officer who called me back was very apologetic... and grateful that we were willing to help."  
  
Everyone else in the family were looking at him and starting to relax.  
  
"That's good, John." Jeff said. "Glad to know we're not required this time..." He noticed that his son didn't appear to be listening. "John?"  
  
John appeared to be staring over their heads. "What's he..."  
  
The piano began to play a scale.  
  
As if they were one person they turned to face the instrument.  
  
Virgil was sitting there. He played the length of the keyboard from bass to treble and then reversed his course. He reached a note midway down the treble scale and played it a few times. "No. I lose it there." He said to himself.  
  
"I think he's lost it, full stop." Alan looked horrified. "I've seen it coming since he went mad at Scott."  
  
"Alan!" Scott admonished him, worried that his brother's words were true.  
  
"Alan! Don't be mean!" Tin-Tin scolded.  
  
Virgil looked up. "Tin-Tin! Say that again."  
  
"What! I-I said... Why?"  
  
"Tin-Tin!" Virgil ran over to her, picked her up in a hug and twirled her round. "I heard you! I heard you speak!" He started laughing. "I love you! Forget Alan, marry me!"  
  
"Virgil Tracy!" She laughed, blushing. "You're being silly. Put me down! I won't marry you!"  
  
He put her down. "That's got to be the most wonderful thing I've ever heard," he said, smiling.  
  
Scott tapped him on the shoulder and Virgil turned. His eldest brother had a grin that stretched practically from one ear to the other. "You can hear?"  
  
"I can't hear you." Virgil admitted. He went back over to the piano and sat down. "I can hear these notes clearly." He played a scale. "The tinnitus muddles them from here. And I can't hear anything below this note." He played another and turned back to Tin-Tin. "Your voice is the right pitch for me to hear. So's the klaxon. That's what woke me..." Suddenly he frowned. "Shouldn't you guys be heading off? I'm holding you up..."  
  
"Tell him Tin-Tin." Gordon said. "He's not going to want to watch any of us sign."  
  
"It was a false alarm, Virgil," she told him. "Some youths thought it would be funny to call in International Rescue. The police have caught and arrested them."  
  
"That's good."  
  
Brains stepped in. "Tin-Tin. T-Tell him I'll want to m-make some tests later."  
  
Tin-Tin translated. Virgil screwed up his face at the thought. "Nothing that involves needles is there?"  
  
"No." Brains shook his head.  
  
"Good!"  
  
Grandma Tracy stormed into the room. Her face wore a frown. "Own up! Who's eaten my chocolate cake?! We were going to have it for morning tea!"  
  
Scott looked guiltily away from his grandmother.  
  
Virgil didn't have any such inhibitions. "Grandma! I can hear you too!" He left the piano stool and gave her a kiss. "This is great!"  
  
"What! Virgil? You can hear?"  
  
"I can hear you and Tin-Tin. The guys voices are too deep."  
  
"That's wonderful!"  
  
"Isn't it!" he was beaming.  
  
His father came over to him. His eyes were shining. He looked relieved too. I'm happy for you.   
  
"Not as happy as I am!"  
  
"Mother. Tell him to get dressed and he can have breakfast."  
  
"Virgil, go get dressed. You'll have to have a normal breakfast. You could have chocolate cake but someone's eaten it all."  
  
"That's okay." Virgil looked at Scott and winked. "I've had enough chocolate cake for the moment anyway."   
  
Scott returned the wink before Virgil left the room to get changed.  
  
"What did he mean by that?" Grandma asked. "Does he know who's stolen the chocol..."  
  
"Don't worry about the chocolate cake." Jeff told her gently. "I think it's done more good than you could imagine. We'll find some other way to celebrate tonight." 


	70. One Hundred and One

One Hundred and One - BF  
  
Virgil spent the day exploring the island, discovering what he could and couldn't hear. Occasionally he would return to the piano and test the treble notes again, trying to see if his hearing range had increased. It was mid-afternoon before he let out a cheer. "I can hear that one!" He played the note below the earlier one. He made up a little tune in the upper register of the piano.   
  
"This is great!" he stated for the hundred and first time that day.  
  
***   
  
"Jeff Tracy!" His mother was standing in front of his desk, her hands on her hips in a pose that told him that she meant business. "Just what is Brains doing in the dining room? Apart from getting in everyone's way that is."  
  
"Just a little project I've got him working on, Mother. I think you'll like it."  
  
"But there's wires and electronics all over the place. Not to mention the dust! Do you know he's drilled a hole in the wall?"  
  
"I thought he might have to do that. Don't worry about it."  
  
"Don't worry about it! Well if you don't mind sawdust in your chicken, then fine! I think the rest of us would prefer it to be ungarnished!"  
  
"I'm sure he'll be finished by the time dinner's ready."  
  
"He'd better be, Jeff. Or this won't be much of a celebration!"  
  
Virgil wandered in. Reluctantly he was still wearing the Comm-specs so that he could communicate with the male members of the household. "Grandma. Even furious you sound great!"  
  
She gave him a peck on the cheek. "Well I'm glad someone seems to be listening to me. Are you sure your deafness isn't catching. Your father prefers to ignore me."  
  
"Mother! I've listened to every word! And I've told you not to worry. Brains will have the room cleaned up ready for the table to be set. Trust me!"  
  
Muttering to herself she stormed out of the room.  
  
Jeff smiled at Virgil. "How's it going?"  
  
"Do you know how wonderful bird song is?" Virgil was still smiling himself.  
  
"I can't say I've ever taken much notice."  
  
"You want to. It's only when you lose these things that you really wish you had taken notice when you could enjoy them."  
  
"There's some sense in that." Jeff said thoughtfully.  
  
"Are Scott and I still on to see about recruiting that new agent?" Virgil asked.  
  
Jeff appeared to hesitate. "We'll leave it a couple of days. See how your recovery progresses."  
  
Virgil didn't hear the negative tone in his voice.  
  
***   
  
It was after dark by the time the evening meal was ready.  
  
"There you are Mother." Jeff said triumphantly. "I told you Brains would have everything cleared away in time."  
  
The dining room was spotless. The only sign that Brains had been working in there was a large, framed white square hanging on the wall, just by the head of the table.  
  
"Just what is that in aid of?" She snapped peevishly.  
  
"You'll see." He promised. "It won't be long now."  
  
The rest of the family came filing in.  
  
Alan caught Scott and held him back. "Can't you do something about Virgil?" he whispered. "He's been following Tin-Tin around most of the afternoon!"  
  
"Why? Are you worried he's serious about that marriage proposal?" Scott asked laughing. "Don't worry about it. He'll probably hear your voice next and then he'll be following you instead."  
  
"Thanks for the warning." Alan said grumpily.  
  
"So, what have you been up to Brains?" Gordon asked.  
  
"You'll see soon. Th-That's if it works." Brains was sounding a little grumpy himself.  
  
"Why wouldn't it? I've never known anything of yours to fail." Gordon sounded surprised.  
  
"I-I haven't had a chance to t-test it properly."  
  
"Well just as long as it doesn't blow up in the middle of dinner." Gordon stated. "I'm hungry and dinner tonight should be something special!"  
  
"Are we all here?" Jeff asked as he stood at the head of the table. There were murmurings of agreement. "Right. Well as this is a meal to celebrate Virgil regaining..., starting to regain his hearing..."  
  
Virgil grinned as Gordon clapped him on the back.  
  
"... I thought it would be nice if the entire family could be present. Especially in light of our conversation yesterday, so I asked Brains to work on something today..."  
  
"I h-hope it works." Brains muttered to himself.  
  
Everyone else tried to work out which conversation in particular Jeff was talking about.  
  
"... And so..." Jeff turned to the framed square. "Base to Thunderbird Five. Come in John."  
  
The white square faded out to be replaced by John, seated in the galley in the space station. "About time!" he complained. "My dinner's nearly cold."  
  
"We've decided that there's no reason why the whole family couldn't eat at the same time, spend quality time together."  
  
The meal started being dished out.  
  
"Hey! That's brilliant." Alan enthused. "I always thought mealtimes were the worst up there."  
  
John was already well into his dinner. "Doesn't improve the flavour of what you're eating though."  
  
Brains was indignant. "That is the best, m-most n-nutritious foods I could c-come up with."  
  
"And it's not bad, Brains. But nothing beats home cooking." John informed him. "How's the hearing, Virgil? Any improvement?"  
  
"A little. But I've still got to wear these things." Virgil indicated the Comm-specs. "I'll be glad when I don't need them anymore."  
  
"And what's wrong with th-them." Brains was getting more uptight by the minute.  
  
"Nothing, Brains, nothing." Virgil said hastily. "They're brilliant! Just not as good as hearing you guys talk with my own ears."  
  
"Hmph." Brains wasn't greatly mollified.  
  
"Mister Brains?" Kyrano asked gently. "What is wrong?"  
  
"Nothing." Brains snapped.  
  
"He was talking to Professor Bunsen earlier." Tin-Tin explained. "Now that Virgil's getting his hearing back the Professor has started calling Brains..." she received a glare from the scientist, "... that name again."  
  
"Tell him you don't like it." Jeff suggested. "He should understand."  
  
"Do you want me to tell him?" Virgil offered.  
  
"How come he's got such a soft spot for you?" Scott asked.  
  
Virgil shrugged "Beats me!"  
  
"That man is the most irritating, irrational, egotistical, embarrassing person that I've ever had the misfortune to know." Brains snapped. "And if he tells me one more time to let him fix my stutter I'll take that rabbit suit of his and insert it, ears and all, right up his test tube and pour hydrochloric acid on it..." he tailed off when he saw the surprised looks on everyone's faces.  
  
"I don't think you'll need to worry, Brains." John told him. "He's already fixed it. You didn't stutter once then."  
  
Gordon decided the atmosphere needed lightening up a bit. "Hey, this is a celebration isn't it? So lets have some festive lights. I'll go get them!" He was out of the room before anyone was able to protest.  
  
He was back a moment later with a gaudy lamp. The lampshade was designed to rotate giving the impression that fish were swimming on the walls.  
  
His brothers all groaned.  
  
"This'll be great!" he protested. "Just wait." He plugged it in...  
  
The room was plunged into darkness.  
  
A chorus went up. "Gordon!"  
  
"It wasn't me!" he protested. "The fuse must have blown."  
  
"I kn-new I hadn't run enough tests." Brains muttered. "The power usage is still too great."  
  
"Fix the fuse Gordon!" his father ordered.  
  
"Okay." he sighed. "Where's the torch?"  
  
"You know where it's kept." His grandmother told him sternly.  
  
He was feeling about in a lower cupboard. "I can't find it."  
  
"What do you mean you can't find it?" Alan asked as he stood to help. He bumped into someone. "Sorry Kyrano. I can't see a thing. Where are you, Gordon?"  
  
"I'm... Get off my foot!!!"  
  
"Are you looking in the right cupboard?"  
  
"Of course I am...! I think."  
  
"Well have you looked in this cupboard?" Alan swung open the door.  
  
There was a sharp intake of breath.  
  
"Sorry Gordon." Alan said apologetically. "I didn't realise you were standing so close. On the positive side Virgil should be able to hear you now."  
  
"Alan!" Gordon ground out. "Go sit down!"  
  
"Come on guys!" Virgil complained. "My dinner's getting cold."  
  
"Well don't stop eating it." Scott suggested.   
  
"I can't see it to eat it." Virgil informed him. "Thank heavens the Comm-specs don't rely on electricity."  
  
"I'm not having any problems. This is just like old times! Will someone pass me the carrots?"   
  
"Scott!" His Grandmother scolded. "How many times do you have to be told not to talk with food in your mouth?"  
  
He swallowed hurriedly. "How'd you know?"  
  
"I could hear you, Scott Tracy! I'm not deaf."  
  
"And I still am, and I knew too." Virgil was starting to sound a little testy himself. "You're spraying food all over me!"  
  
"Sorry, Virg."  
  
"If you're finding this so easy, why don't you go fix the fuse?" Gordon said.  
  
"I don't know." Scott griped good-naturedly. "A little bit of darkness and you all go to pieces. Leave it to me, I'll go mend it." He took a sip of his drink. "And don't anyone touch my plate. I know exactly where everything is."  
  
A short time later the power was reinstated.  
  
Scott returned to the table. "Who took my plate?"  
  
"We wanted a chance to catch up with you." Alan informed him. "You were already onto seconds."  
  
Gordon continued to look for the torch. "It's not in here! Who shifted it?"  
  
"Now that's irresponsible." Jeff thundered. "The torches should always be kept in their proper places in case of emergencies. Someone could get hurt!"  
  
"Someone was!" Gordon was moving very slowly and gingerly.  
  
"So where is it?" Jeff demanded.  
  
"Don't look at me." Scott stated. "I haven't used one in over a year."  
  
"Skite." Virgil told him.  
  
"Do you know anything, Virgil?" his father asked.  
  
"Me? No. If I need a torch I grab my one. It's got a better beam."  
  
"Last time I saw it, I used it to try to find a spoon that had fallen behind the stove." Grandma Tracy stated.  
  
"And did you put it back?"  
  
"Don't you take that tone with me, Jefferson Tracy! Of course I put it back!"  
  
Her grandson's grinned at their father's discomfort.  
  
"Alan!" He said, trying to regain some composure.  
  
"I haven't touched it... No wait a minute. I borrowed it when Tin-Tin lost her ring in the pool..."  
  
"And why did you need the torch for that?" Gordon asked.  
  
"It was night-time."  
  
Tin-Tin blushed.  
  
"And why," Gordon grinned, "were you two swimming in the dark?"  
  
"We weren't swimming!" Alan protested. "She'd lost it earlier and had only just realised!"  
  
"Yeah, sure..."  
  
"I remember..." Tin-Tin said quickly, "...I gave the torch to Father to return. He needed it for something."  
  
"That is correct." Kyrano nodded his head in acknowledgement. "I wished to ensure that something was returned to its rightful place." He eyed Alan meaningfully. Alan reddened slightly. "I was going to return it myself, but, if you remember Mister Tracy, you and I had a little talk in your room."  
  
"I remember," Jeff growled.  
  
"I believe," Kyrano continued, "that you offered to return it. You were planning on getting yourself a drink from the kitchen."  
  
"Did I?" Jeff frowned in thought. "I don't remember..."  
  
"Jeff! Was it you who ate my chocolate cake?"  
  
"Mother. I can honestly say that I didn't even get to see your chocolate cake!"  
  
"So the torch might be in your room?" Gordon said perkily, his 'injury' forgotten. "I'll go and look!"   
  
"Not while we're all having a meal!" his father tried to tell him, but he'd gone. "I can see how that boy managed to win his gold medal."  
  
"Talking of us all 'having a meal'." Virgil noted. "Why don't we try to get John back?"  
  
Jeff called him up again.  
  
"About time." He said huffily. "I was beginning to think you were tired of me already. What happened?"  
  
"Gordon blew a fuse and Dad had hidden the torch." Alan piped up.  
  
"Oh, yes." John said wryly.  
  
Gordon came back. "Found it! Beside your bed, Dad." He grinned happily.  
  
Jeff cleared his throat. "Let that be a lesson to you, Alan. If you take something, make sure you're the one to put it back. Don't trust it to someone else."  
  
"Yes sir." Alan said, but it was with the air of someone who'd scored a point over his parent. 


	71. One Hundred and Two

Authors Note for the next three chapters:  
  
Don is a total figment of my imagination.  
  
The others - Any similarity to any living person is purely coincidental... maybe...  
  
And of course Scott and Virgil are written the way that I imagine them, which may not be the way that you imagine them, or even the way Gerry Anderson imagines them... and he created them! And I'm just grateful that he did create them, and lets us borrow them for our stories.  
  
Enjoy  
  
Purupuss  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
One Hundred and Two - BF  
  
Virgil steered the car into a parking spot and turned off the motor. "Well, this is it."  
  
Scott was looking about him. "This is amazing. It's actually quite similar to how I imagined it."  
  
"Does it bring back a few memories?"  
  
"Yeah. Of one of the most frightening times of my life. I'm lucky this rehabilitation centre's one of the best"  
  
They got out of the car and headed over to the reception area.  
  
"Did you get the impression that Father wasn't too keen on us making this trip?" Scott asked.  
  
"No... But then I still can't hear him."  
  
The double doors slid back automatically and they entered the air-conditioned foyer.  
  
Scott stood looking around while Virgil went over to the reception desk. "Hi Trish. How are you?" he smiled.  
  
"Virgil! Lovely to see you again. I'm fine thanks. Dusty's expecting you, I'll give her a call."  
  
He looked at his watch. "We've got a couple of minutes before we're due to see her, so there's no hurry." He poked his head into the room. "Hi Julia." He waved.  
  
"Hello Virgil!" She stood and walked over to the reception desk so she could hear him better. "How are you both?"  
  
"At the moment Scott's in better shape than I am," He admitted and then turned back to his brother. "Hey! Don't be rude, come over and say hi."  
  
"No need to yell. You're the one who's deaf." Scott reminded him.  
  
The two women stared at him. "Scott! You can see?"  
  
"You got it." He smiled. "Nice to meet you again and to finally see you."  
  
"But how?" Trish asked.  
  
"We struck it lucky and found this professor who was able to repair the damage." Scott explained. "The guy's a complete nutcase, but who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth. Especially now that I can see the horse," he finished with a grin. "That's why we're here. We thought we'd tell Dusty in case she hears of anyone else who could be helped by the treatment."  
  
"That's wonderful." Trish enthused. "I'm thrilled for you, Scott."  
  
"Virgil?" Julia asked hesitantly. "Why did Scott say that you were deaf?"  
  
"You're not going to believe this," he said with a small smile. "Scott's just getting his sight back and I'm in an explosion of my own and totally lose my hearing. But it's getting better!" he added quickly. "I can hear things in the higher register such as female voices, but I struggle with those in the lower register, like male voices. Today's the first day that I've been able to hear Scott, and that's only if there's no background noise."  
  
"I've got a sore throat from all the talking he insisted that I do on the flight over." Scott grumbled good-naturedly. "Ever heard of too much of a good thing, Virg.?"  
  
"And I couldn't hear most of it because of the background noise from the plane." Virgil informed him.  
  
"Now you tell me...! Well, we'd better get onto business." Scott stated. "Would you mind letting Dusty know we're here, Trish?"  
  
"It'd be my pleasure."  
  
They both moved down to one end of the reception desk.  
  
"Julia?" Virgil said. "Do you mind if I ask you a couple of things?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Do you suffer from tinnitus too?"  
  
She nodded. "For me, at times, it sounds like a lawn mower's going on in the neighbours. Do you suffer from it?"  
  
He nodded. "Sometimes it's like a jet plane taking off."  
  
She made a face. "Sounds terrible! I hope it improves."  
  
"So do I. Another question. When I was staying here, did I ever ignore you or treat you like you were stupid."   
  
"No you didn't. I noticed that. You were one of the few guests here who always tried to include me."  
  
"Good," he said in evident relief. "You've no idea what a struggle its been just dealing with my family. Let me amend that to, you probably have some idea. But I hated the thought that I may have behaved in the same way to someone else."  
  
"Isolating isn't it," she agreed. The she looked over his shoulder. "Here's Dusty now."  
  
"Thanks. Catch you later." He walked over to where Dusty was walking towards them. "Dusty! Good to see you."  
  
"Virgil! You're looking well. And how are you, Scott?"  
  
"All the better for seeing you!" he exclaimed. "And you're much prettier than I ever imagined you to be. For some reason I'd always pictured you as a blonde." He kissed her gallantly on the hand.  
  
She stared at him.  
  
"Ah, Scott." Virgil struggled to stop himself from laughing. "This is Dusty's husband, Don." He indicated a well built man, who was even taller than Scott.  
  
"Uh... H-Hi. Nice to meet you." Scott stuttered out. He grimaced as Don's hand squeezed his own outstretched one tightly.  
  
"Scott." Don said tightly. His voice deep and mildly threatening.  
  
"Translation time." Virgil said easily. "Sorry Don, your voice is too deep for me to hear at the moment. I'm deaf."  
  
"Deaf?" Dusty exclaimed. "What happened to you? And what did you mean by..." she glanced at Don "Can you see, Scott?  
  
"I can see." He grinned. "It's part of what we want to talk to you about."  
  
"You can see?" She was amazed. "But I thought it was permanent!"  
  
"So did we. We'll explain it over lunch. We thought we'd have a picnic on the beach. We've got everything in the car."  
  
"But what about Virgil's hearing?" She asked confused. "That generator didn't explode again did it?"  
  
"No. A fuel tank did." Virgil explained with a wry grin. "I can hear you, but I can't hear Don. Sorry," he said apologetically to the big man.  
  
Don frowned at him.  
  
"I'll just sign out." Dusty said. "Then we can get going."  
  
"Fine." Scott said.  
  
"I'll come with you." Don followed her closely.  
  
Scott pulled Virgil to one side. "You could have warned me," he hissed.  
  
"Why?" Virgil hissed back. "You knew he was coming. I didn't tell you to make a fool of yourself."  
  
"So now he either thinks I'm trying to hit on his wife, or that I'm a prize idiot."  
  
"Well, Dusty and I know that you weren't trying to hit on her..." Virgil grinned.  
  
"Thanks." Scott said sarcastically.  
  
In the other room Don turned to Dusty. "I don't like this!"  
  
"What? He was only being pleasant. Scott's always been a perfect gentleman towards me."  
  
"Didn't he hit his brother?"  
  
"Don!" She said in exasperation. "You know the circumstances behind that."  
  
"Didn't one of them draw that picture of you?"  
  
"That was Virgil. Scott was blind then, remember?"  
  
"I don't like this!" he reiterated again. "I don't trust those two. They're a couple of spoilt, rich, brats who are used to always getting their own way. I'd bet that they've never done an honest days work in their lives and would never think of lifting a finger to help another soul. They've probably got some slave at home who does their slightest bidding as soon as they snap their fingers. What ever this 'mutual arrangement' is that they want to talk to you about I want you to turn it down!"  
  
"Don! At least listen to what they've got to say."  
  
"It's this living away from civilisation on that tropical island that does it. They're probably out of touch with the real world!"  
  
"Don!"  
  
"And what's that place like anyway! Their equipment must be pretty shoddy. If Scott's blinded and now his brother..."  
  
"Virgil," she said patiently.  
  
"Virgil. What a queer name!"  
  
"Their father was an astronaut. He named his sons after the early astronauts."  
  
"How does a fuel tank explode? Their old man doesn't seem to care much for them if he lets two of his sons get seriously injured!"  
  
"Their 'old man' is Jeff Tracy the philanthropist! I wish you'd met him, because I know you'd like him, and then you'd also know that he cares for them all." She folded her arms tightly. "Now, have you finished? Because I am leaving, hopefully to have a pleasant lunch with two very nice men. As you know! It's not as if you've never met them before. Now are you coming?"  
  
"Of course I'm coming! I'm not leaving you alone with those two for one minute."  
  
"I wonder what's taking them so long?" Scott looked at his watch.  
  
"Probably wondering what kind of household we live in." Virgil said. "Don's probably told Dusty not to trust you."  
  
"Me! What about you?"  
  
"I didn't try to hit on her."  
  
"And neither did I! I was being... Dusty, Don! Are you ready?"  
  
She gave him a big smile. "Ready when you are, Scott." Behind her Don glowered at them both.  
  
"Bye Trish. Bye Julia." Virgil waved towards the reception desk.  
  
"Don't be strangers." Trish called back.  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Bye Julia." Scott gave her a wave.  
  
She waved in return, her cheeks reddening slightly.  
  
Once the four people had exited the building Trish and Julia rushed to the window.  
  
"Aren't those two just so toe-curlingly handsome?" Trish said as she watched the Tracy brothers leave. "Wouldn't you love to be having a picnic with them?"  
  
"Uh huh. Handsome, intelligent and caring... what a combination." Julia sighed.   
  
"I wonder why they don't have steady girl friends."  
  
"Maybe they do. How well do you know them?"  
  
"Not that well." Trish admitted. "But I'd like to know them better." They watched Scott and Virgil have a discussion over who would drive the car. "Those two are so close that if you didn't know they were brothers, you'd be worried."  
  
Another woman entered the room.  
  
"Sereena!" Trish called. "Come here. You're just in time to see the Tracy brothers before they leave. Pity you missed talking to them."  
  
"Look at you both, drooling over them." Sereena scolded lightly as she headed over to stand beside them. "You're like a pair of giddy schoolgirls!"  
  
"You can't talk," Trish informed her. "You were always very quick to get Virgil his morning cup of coffee."  
  
"Well. He was always too busy looking after Scott, and had a sore arm. I felt sorry for him." Sereena said lamely.  
  
"Quick!" Julia said. "You're going to miss them."  
  
Trish flung open the window. "Virgil!" she yelled. "Sereena wants to say hi!"  
  
Before getting into the car he turned and waved back towards the reception block. "Hi, Sereena."  
  
"Hi, Virgil." She smiled, blushing furiously, before scolding her friend again. "You're mad, Trish."  
  
"Brought some colour to your cheeks though, didn't it."  
  
Sereena looked back out the window again. "What's Scott doing in the driving seat?" she asked worriedly.  
  
"Isn't it great." Julia exclaimed. "He's got his sight back."  
  
"Really! That's fantastic."  
  
"And now poor Virgil's been injured in another explosion." Trish said sadly. "He's partially deaf."  
  
"Deaf!" Sereena exclaimed.  
  
"Those poor boys." Julia was looking out the window. "Just makes you want to mother them doesn't it."  
  
"Or something..." Trish added with an impish grin.  
  
Giggling, the three of them waved at the departing car. 


	72. One Hundred and Three

One Hundred and Three - BF  
  
They pulled up at the beach two miles from Rehab and got out of the car.   
  
"I'll find us a good spot." Virgil offered. He wondered off down the sands.  
  
"Okay." Scott acknowledged. "Will you give me a hand, Don?"  
  
Don's expression threatened to give him more than just a hand.  
  
Scott popped the boot and started retrieving its contents. He handed Don some chairs and a table, along with an umbrella arrangement, before hefting out two large picnic baskets.   
  
Dusty reached in and pulled out a blanket. "I can at least take this."  
  
Scott looked at the picnic baskets. "I don't know what Grandma packed in here. But I guarantee it'll be enough to feed an army. We'll need help." He looked down the beach. "Virgil! Give us a hand will you?"  
  
Virgil was standing, gazing out to sea. He didn't respond.  
  
Scott stared at him, his frown more of concern than anger. "I'm never sure if he can't hear me or is just ignoring me," he muttered.  
  
"How bad is he?" Dusty asked.  
  
"Better than he was when we though it was permanent, which was only a week ago." Scott said grimly. "We're hopeful that he'll make a full recovery. Excuse me." He walked down the beach to his brother. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Pardon? Sorry Scott, the surf's a bit loud."  
  
Are you okay?   
  
"I'm fine. Just remembering..."  
  
Maybe we should go somewhere else.   
  
"No. It's okay. I've got Brains' 'Babelet'."  
  
I didn't mean that...   
  
"Don't worry, Scott. Like I said, I'm fine. That's all in the past."  
  
Dusty leant on the car and watched them. "Look at them. How can you say there's anything sinister going on there?"  
  
"I didn't say sinister. I just don't trust them."  
  
"Oh, Don!" She sighed in exasperation.  
  
"Promise me that you'll listen to them and then tell them thanks but no thanks." He begged.  
  
"I'll listen, and I'll listen with an open mind. Then I'll make a decision," she told him.  
  
"Dusty..."  
  
Scott and Virgil arrived back at the car. They each picked up a picnic basket and a couple of chairs.  
  
"Okay, where?" Scott asked.  
  
Virgil looked at him blankly.  
  
Scott put down his load again. Where are we going to have lunch?   
  
"Oh, sorry. Over there." Virgil led the way.  
  
It was a warm day, with a hint of sea breeze to keep the air from getting too warm. Virgil had chosen a spot out in the open. They had plenty of space to talk without being overheard.  
  
Working together Scott and Virgil quickly erected some shade, while Don unfolded the chairs and table and Dusty laid out the blanket.  
  
Hard work done they settled down in the shade to unpack their lunch.   
  
Dusty's eyes grew wide as she saw the food emerge from the baskets. "This is too much!"  
  
"Told you Grandma packs enough to feed an army." Scott reminded her. "I think she thought all five of her grandsons were coming on this outing." He pulled out an object the size of a clipboard and as thick as a pencil. "That's yours." He handed it to Virgil.  
  
"Good, thanks." Virgil took it and pressed it in a couple of places.  
  
"Is it working?" Scott asked him.  
  
"Yep."  
  
"Okay... I think that's everything. Dig in everyone. We can discuss business later." 


	73. One Hundred and Four

One Hundred and Four - BF  
  
It wasn't exactly a relaxed meal. Don obviously still didn't trust them, Dusty was trying to keep things chatty but kept on glaring at her recalcitrant husband. Virgil couldn't hear most of the conversation and Scott kept on trying to prove that he only regarded Dusty as a friend.  
  
They explained about Scott's recovery. "That's one reason why we wanted to see you Dusty." Scott explained. "Why should I be the only person able to use this technology? Father's willing to pay for anyone who can't afford it to get the treatment. We thought you could tell us the best way to get word out there that this treatment is now available."  
  
"I'll have to think about that. I think I've got a list of contacts in my office."  
  
They also gave a sanitised version of Virgil's accident.   
  
"How come you two are so unlucky?" Dusty asked.  
  
Scott shrugged. "Just lucky I guess." He put his plate back on the table. "Which brings us to the main reason why we invited you here, rather than just discussing this back at work." He glanced at his brother. "Is it all clear Virg.?"  
  
Virgil pressed his strange object another couple of times. "All clear." He pulled a sketchpad and some pencils out from his basket.  
  
"What are you doing?" Scott asked.  
  
"You're the 'company representative'." Virgil reminded him. "I'm on sick leave. I'm just here to catch up with old friends."  
  
Scott glared at him, before turning back to Dusty. "I know we come across as a pair of spoilt, rich kids, who've never done a days work in their lives..." Don shifted uncomfortably, "... but believe me that's a long way from the truth. We've done a bit of checking on you, both of you, and our organisation believes that we would benefit from your services."  
  
"Doing what?" Don asked threateningly.  
  
Scott looked about him. "This feels strange, talking about it. Are you sure everything's, okay Virgil?"  
  
"Stop panicking. This gizmo of Brains will pick up anyone within 100 metres as well as any recording devices. You know that."  
  
Don and Dusty looked at each other warily.  
  
Scott took a deep breath. "Okay. We haven't been totally truthful with you about our lives or how we got our injuries."  
  
Don sat back. "I knew it! I knew there was something fishy. Come on Dusty, we're going!"  
  
"No!" She stopped him. "I want to hear this."  
  
"Please don't go, Don." Scott pleaded. "At least hear me out. I promise there's nothing illegal or immoral involved."  
  
"Sit down, Don." Dusty said quietly. "They've given us a wonderful lunch. You at least owe them the courtesy of listening to Scott."  
  
He stared at her and then, with obvious reluctance, sat down again.  
  
"Thank you," Scott smiled.  
  
"Person at three o-clock." Virgil said quietly.  
  
"Coming this way?" Scott asked.  
  
"Yes... No... No it's okay, they've gone up to the car park."  
  
Scott waited a moment until he was sure the area about them was clear again. "Our family..." he began slowly, "... form the nucleus of an organisation that you've probably heard of. One that regards secrecy as vitally important to our continued existence. Even if you decide not to accept our offer, I'd like you to promise that you won't mention this conversation to anyone."  
  
"I promise." Dusty said instantly.  
  
"Dusty!" Don protested.  
  
"He said it's nothing illegal or immoral. It can't hurt can it."  
  
"Please Don," Scott asked, "if you're not willing to agree to this then I can't carry on."  
  
"Please, Don." Dusty echoed.  
  
Virgil stopped his sketching.  
  
"Okay... I promise." Don eventually said.  
  
"Good." Scott smiled. "I'm sure you won't regret this." He took a deep breath. "We're with International Rescue."  
  
Don burst out laughing. "Now I've heard everything."  
  
"Don!" Dusty scolded.  
  
"International Rescue?" Don smiled. "Come on. What are you really on about?"  
  
Scott stared at him. So did Virgil.  
  
"Are you serious?" Dusty asked.  
  
Scott nodded. "I'm the pilot of Thunderbird One, and Virgil pilots Thunderbird Two. At least he will when he's got his hearing back."  
  
Virgil smiled at the thought.  
  
"That's how come we've both been seriously injured. We were both out on rescues. It was true that I was blinded by a generator, but it was one big enough to power an entire laboratory, and Virgil's 'fuel tank' contained several hundred thousand gallons of fuel. It's why Father went home so early and why none of the rest of the family came to visit. Father's the chief of the outfit and his five sons are the core operatives. We each have our own Thunderbird craft."  
  
"You're kidding." Don still didn't quite believe what he was hearing. "So what's that got to do with us? Surely you don't want Dusty heading out on rescues, risking her neck?"  
  
"No. Nothing like that." Virgil stated.  
  
Don stared at him. "How come you understood me?"  
  
"This." Virgil indicated 'Brains' gizmo'. "We call this a 'Babelet'. It can be programmed for a number of different things. At the moment it's recording everything that is being said and translating it into a pitch that I can understand, via an ear piece." He tapped an ear. "I've heard most of your conversation."  
  
"That's amazing!" Dusty said.  
  
"There's another trick it can do." Virgil continued on. "Maybe if you talk to someone else you'll believe us." He pressed the Babelet in another couple of places. "Virgil calling base. Come in please."  
  
A strange light came out of the Babelet and reflected onto his face. A familiar voice could be heard. "How's it going, Virgil?"  
  
"Slight problem convincing them, Father. I thought we might need a bit of help."  
  
"Let me talk to them."  
  
Virgil reversed the Babelet so that it was facing Dusty and held it out to her.  
  
She took it reluctantly. "Mr Tracy!"  
  
"Hello Dusty. How are you?"  
  
"F-Fine. H-How're you?"  
  
"Can't complain, and no one would listen if I did. Have my boys told you that we're International Rescue?"  
  
"Yes... You really are?"  
  
"I know it's hard to believe, but yes we really are, for better or for worse. You can understand why I'm sure Scott insisted on secrecy?"  
  
"Yes I can."  
  
"Good. Have they explained what we'd like you to do?"  
  
"No."  
  
"There's nothing to it really. We have a network of agents throughout the world. Some are highly specialised, but most just keep their ears and eyes open to hear if there's any possibility that someone could be trying to find out more about our organisation. You, both of you, carry on with your normal day to day life and report back to me if you hear anything suspicious."  
  
"But why me?"  
  
"Because we know you and we trust you. And because we currently have a vacancy in your area. The previous agent unfortunately died. I guess it wasn't unexpected though, he was 87 years old."  
  
"And I don't have to do anything special?" Dusty asked doubtfully.  
  
"No. We'll have to install some communications equipment in your home, but that's all. Unless you want further training..."  
  
"What kind of communications equipment?" Don asked.  
  
"Oh, sorry Mr Tracy. This is my husband Don." Dusty adjusted the angle of the Babelet so that Don could see Jeff Tracy more clearly.  
  
"Nice to meet you at last, Don. Sorry I'm not there in person, but Virgil's on leave and could be excused, and Scott wanted to see what the place was like and meet everyone again. Someone's got to stay behind and mind the fort." Jeff grinned. "Don't worry about the equipment. You won't have wires and electronics cluttering up the place. I guarantee you won't even know it's there until you need it."  
  
"I don't know what to say." Dusty said.  
  
"Think about it. Scott'll give you something so you can contact us when you've made a decision. In the meantime I'll leave you all to enjoy your afternoon."  
  
"Thank you Mr Tracy." Dusty said.  
  
"No. Thank you for what you've already done to help my family." The Babelet went grey.  
  
Dusty handed it back to Virgil. "This is amazing."  
  
Scott was ferreting about in a hamper. "It's not in here. Is it in yours Virg.?" He looked at his brother. "Virgil?"  
  
"Hmmn? Pardon?" Virgil looked at the Babelet. "Hang on..." he grinned. "Dusty turned it off." He winked at her and pushed at the Babelet in a couple of places.  
  
"Sorry." She said.  
  
"That's okay. Easily done... That's better. Now what did you say Scott?"  
  
"Have you got Dusty's communication device in your hamper?"  
  
Virgil looked. "Here it is." He pulled out a teaspoon with a crest on the handle.   
  
"Are you sure that's it?" Scott asked. "It looks like a real one?"  
  
"Of course it looks like a real one." Virgil said a trifle testily. "That's the whole idea."  
  
"No, I mean it looks the same as the others we've been using."  
  
"Here." Virgil sighed and handed it over to his brother. "Check it."  
  
Scott did so. "Oh yeah, that's it."  
  
"I don't know why you didn't believe me. There's nothing wrong with my eyes."  
  
"Sorry Virg."  
  
Virgil grinned at him.  
  
"All you do," Scott lent over the table so he could show Dusty and Don, and then decided it would be easier to actually squat down between them, "when you want to contact base, is twist the crest a quarter turn clockwise." He did so. "Hiya John."  
  
Johns face appeared in the bowl of the spoon. "Hi Scott. Watchya doing?"  
  
"Introducing Dusty and Don to the wonders of Brains' technology. This is the second oldest in the Tracy brothers line up, and our space monitor on board Thunderbird Five... John."  
  
"Hello John." Dusty said a trifle nervously.  
  
"Nice to meet you, Dusty. I've heard a lot about you."  
  
"So when you want to contact us, you get hold of John like this and he'll put you through to base. See you later, John." Scott twisted the crest again and gave the spoon to Dusty. "Okay?"  
  
"I think so." She took the spoon and placed it carefully into her handbag. Then she looked at her watch. "This has been a very... interesting afternoon gentleman, but I've got to get back. I've got a session in quarter of an hour."  
  
"And you can't keep your clients waiting." Scott smiled. "No telling what they'll break."  
  
All this time Virgil had been drawing busily on his sketchpad. He ripped off the top sheet and handed it to Don. "There. I think that's a bit better than the last one."  
  
Don took the drawing. It was of him and Dusty together. Don looked at it. "Man you're good!"  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Thank you, Virgil," Dusty said. "Do you want to have a look around the facility again before you leave? Your old room's currently vacant. And you'd both better say goodbye to the admin team before you leave. You've got quite a fan club there."  
  
The Tracys laughed embarrassedly. "Yeah, I guess we'd better." Scott said sheepishly.  
  
"You know, Virgil," Dusty continued on hopefully. "Sereena's unattached."  
  
He hit his ear lightly. "Funny. I think my hearing's just gone again. I didn't hear that." 


	74. One Hundred and Five

One Hundred and Five - BF  
  
"What are you doing?" Scott asked as he wandered into Virgil's room.  
  
"Just finishing this painting off. I'll be glad to be done with it."  
  
"Then why don't you leave it?"  
  
"I don't know. I have a feeling that I should finish it."  
  
"Virgil?" Scott asked. "Why did you spell danger with a lowercase d and a capital R?"  
  
"Where?" Virgil asked absently.  
  
"In your painting."  
  
"I haven't." Virgil frowned in confusion.  
  
"Yes you have."  
  
"It's my painting. I should know what I've put in it and I haven't written danger anywhere... in anything... for days... maybe even months."  
  
"But it's in your painting!" Scott protested. "I can see it in the mirror."  
  
"That's quite a narcissistic tendency you've developed there, Scott. Always looking in mirrors..."  
  
"I wasn't looking at my reflection. I was looking at your painting. You wouldn't let me otherwise."  
  
"That's because everyone considers themselves to be a critic and always think they can improve on what I'm doing before I've finished it."  
  
"I don't do that!"  
  
"Are you kidding?" Virgil laughed. "You're one of the worst. You're already doing it with this painting. Face it Scott, you're a control freak!"  
  
"That still doesn't explain why you've painted the word danger with a lowercase d and a capital R."  
  
"I haven't!" Virgil repeated in exasperation.  
  
"Look!" Scott grabbed him by the arm and pulled him so he could also look in the mirror. "Tell me I'm wrong."  
  
Virgil looked at the reflection of the painting and his face sagged in disbelief. Without a word he walked back over to his easel and pushed the button that would allow it to rotate so that Scott could see it.  
  
Scott's face looked equally bemused as he examined the painting.   
  
Two birds of prey, one with his eyes blindfolded, the other with its ears bandaged were flying into a pit in the ground. From the pit fire and smoke billowed, obliterating the background. An arrow pointed into the pit. On the arrow was printed a single word...  
  
Regnad.  
  
"I never realised." Virgil stared at the word. "I never even thought..."  
  
"Regnad is danger backwards." Scott frowned. "If I'd known I would have steered well clear."  
  
"No you wouldn't."  
  
"You're right." Scott gave a wry smile. "I wouldn't. Neither of us would have."  
  
Jeff Tracy came to the door. "I'm glad you're both here. I want a word with you in my room."  
  
"Now?" Scott asked.  
  
"Now."  
  
Scott and Virgil looked at each other and shrugged. Virgil slipped off his smock and hung it on its hook. He took one last wondering look at the painting and followed his brother out of his room.  
  
Jeff was looking out the window when they got there. There was a cardboard box on his bed.   
  
Scott recognised it.  
  
Virgil didn't. "What's up, Father?"  
  
"How's your hearing, Virgil? Can you hear me okay?" Jeff sat in a chair so his bed was between the three of them.  
  
"It's fine. The tinnitus has almost gone and Brains' last test showed my hearing's nearly back to what it was before the accident."  
  
"Good. I don't want any misunderstandings. Close the door, will you? Then you both may as well sit down."  
  
Mystified Virgil complied.  
  
"I owe you boys some apologies. I'll start with you, Virgil. Well, I guess it's really to both of you. The night before you started getting your hearing back I decided that I wanted a midnight snack." He gave a self-conscious smile. "I'm quite partial to your grandmother's chocolate cake myself. When I heard the piano I stopped to listen. When I realised it was you playing I had to stay and find out what was going on."  
  
"How much did you hear?" Scott asked.  
  
"Let's just say that I won't tell your brothers what it means when you two want chocolate cake."  
  
"Oh." Scott said quietly. "I'd hoped you'd gone to bed when I told you to."  
  
"You knew he was there?" Virgil was leaning forward, his forearms resting on his knees so that he was staring at the floor and not his father.  
  
"He asked if you were okay."  
  
"No. Actually I asked if everything was all right. Call me a nosey old man if you like, but I was worried about my sons. I wanted to be there if either of them needed my help."  
  
"So you heard everything?" Virgil asked the floor.  
  
Jeff nodded. "I'm sorry. I had no right to listen to your private conversation. I wished I hadn't afterwards... I didn't get any sleep that night... I was trying to decide my best course of action. Say nothing and pretend I didn't know what was going on? Talk to Brains? Talk to either or both of you?"  
  
"What did you decide?" Scott asked.  
  
"I chickened out. I decided to wait 24 hours and then decide. You've no idea how relieved I was that I didn't have to make that decision."  
  
Virgil was silent.  
  
"You may notice that, despite your fears, I'm still alive, though I will admit to feeling sick when I heard what you had to say. It's true that I worry about you all. But I still wish you'd talked to me... How long did you think you could keep something like that secret?" Jeff asked them both.  
  
Scott looked at Virgil. "As long as was necessary," he said determinedly.  
  
"A secret like that could have done as much damage to International Rescue and this family as any of the scenarios you put forward."  
  
"We did what we thought was best... for everyone." Scott was still the spokesman. "If we'd told you, what would you have done?"  
  
"I haven't fully thought about it. I don't really know. At least the three of you wouldn't have had to shoulder the burden alone."  
  
"I know Brains was relieved when I talked to him the following morning." Scott said. "He kept putting forward theories and hypotheses. I didn't understand most of it, I think he was just relieved to get it off his chest."  
  
"I know." Jeff stated. "He told me when I went and thanked him for being loyal."  
  
Virgil finally looked up. "You thanked him?"  
  
Jeff nodded. "After it was apparent that you were getting your hearing back, I thanked him. I didn't want him thinking he'd been disloyal to me, or International Rescue."  
  
Virgil sat back. "I'm sorry. It seemed to be the only course of action. I didn't like doing it, but I couldn't see any other option. I wasn't even going to tell Scott, but after we'd started talking it seemed impossible to stop."  
  
"Good stuff that chocolate cake." Scott said ironically. "Cures all ills."  
  
Jeff smiled and then cleared his throat. "Second apology! And this is to you Scott."  
  
"Me!"  
  
"You may not even remember, but I've felt guilty about this all along... Do you remember...? When you were in rehabilitation... That day..."  
  
"Yes?" Scott prompted, confused.  
  
"It was after..." Jeff hesitated looking at Virgil.  
  
"What I think he's trying to say." Virgil stated. "After lunch on the day you told me you hated me, I rang home. I was talking to Father when you came into the room. We didn't tell you he was still on the line." Jeff nodded in agreement.  
  
"And heard everything we said?" Scott hazarded.  
  
"Yes." Jeff said. "I'm sorry."  
  
"I remember." Scott said. "I remember everything about that day, worst luck. But I don't think we said anything too serious did we."  
  
Virgil shook his head. "No. You apologised and asked me to forgive you. And at the time I was unable to."  
  
"Pity we didn't have the chocolate cake then." Scott opined. "We could have saved a lot of problems if we'd talked straight away."  
  
Jeff agreed silently, before he continued on uneasily. "Also, Scott, there's something else you're unaware of... That week I stayed with you... At night I left the door open between our suites so that I could hear you if you needed a hand..."  
  
He paused, unsure how to proceed.  
  
The room was quiet. Scott stared at his hands.  
  
"I'm a terrible father!" Jeff said suddenly. "My son was going through the worst time in his life, and I couldn't even find the courage to offer him comfort. I could hear you crying and I didn't know what to do. So I ignored you! Just like I did with Virgil's problem that night!" Angrily he stood and strode back to the window to look out into the bright sunshine.  
  
"Don't you ever say you're a terrible father!" Scott said almost as angrily. "I have never thought that, and I never will. Even if you had've come into my room I probably would have pushed you away. I didn't want to be comforted. I wanted to be cured. And no one could do that for me... I thought!"  
  
"But perhaps I could have made those first days easier... let you know that I did care... that I did want to help, and then... then... then maybe you wouldn't have needed to... act the way you did."  
  
"I knew you cared. But if I'd known you knew that I'd... I probably would have been that embarrassed even Butch wouldn't have got me out from under those covers."  
  
Virgil looked at him "You can be a self conscious idiot at times, Scott," he said lightly. "I'll bet you weren't the first person in that place to feel out of control. And you certainly won't be the last."  
  
"I know that now. But at that point my world was disintegrating and I was clinging to the one bit of self-esteem that I had left."  
  
Virgil gave a sad smile. "I can relate to that."  
  
Scott looked back at his father. "Sit down... please."  
  
"Yes, relax Father. Neither of us think any less of you than we did before. If anything, Virgil added, "the fact that you are telling us this makes me think more highly of you."  
  
Jeff eyed them both before moving from the window. But he didn't sit down. "You might change your mind in a moment. Third apology! And this one's to you again, Virgil." He indicated the cardboard box. "This is yours."  
  
"Mine?" Virgil looked at the unfamiliar box.  
  
"I ask that you don't blame Scott. I'm sure that he would have done what you asked, only I told him not to. If you want to get angry, get angry at me."  
  
Virgil was beginning to get an idea of what the box contained. He stood and walked over to it. "This is a different box."  
  
"We thought we'd play it safe and Scott destroyed the box but not the contents."  
  
"So you've seen what was in there." Virgil said quietly.  
  
"Yes." His father told him.  
  
"Sorry Virg. But once I knew I couldn't destroy them."  
  
Virgil opened the box and took out the top certificate. "Thank you." He said gratefully. "Both of you."  
  
Scott smiled in relief.  
  
"Do me a favour, Virgil." Jeff said. "Frame some of those and put them on your wall. Be proud of them."  
  
"You know," Virgil took a few more out, "I might just do that." He lifted out some more and then froze. "So you've seen everything that's in here?"  
  
"Uh, yeah." Scott said embarrassedly.  
  
Virgil removed the paintings. "I haven't looked at most of these in years. I'd paint one, and then shove it away out of sight with the others." He screwed up his face. "Some of these are pretty terrible!"  
  
"I don't know." Scott was looking over his shoulder. "I like that one." He pointed at the drawing Virgil had done when he was five. "You've really caught her likeness."  
  
"The memory was freshest then." Virgil said seriously.  
  
"So," Scott asked lightly, "are you doing one for her this year?"  
  
"I've already finished it." Virgil admitted.  
  
"Really? It wasn't in the box." Jeff stated.  
  
"No. It was a bit different this time, so I decided to honour her memory by giving it to someone else." Virgil looked at Scott.  
  
"That one you gave me?" Scott asked faintly.  
  
Virgil nodded.  
  
"Gosh... thanks..." was all Scott could manage.  
  
Virgil replaced the paintings and certificates. "I guess I'll take these back to my room." He picked up the box and gave his father an ironic grin. "That's unless there's anything else you want to talk about? Any other secrets that should be out in the open?"  
  
Jeff gave a chuckle shook his head. "Now where have I heard that before? No, that's all I have to say. Thank you both for listening and for being understanding."  
  
They moved for the door.  
  
"Boys!" Jeff suddenly said. "I'm calling another meeting this evening. Please, this time, don't go for a walk beforehand."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Message received."  
  
*** 


	75. One Hundred and Six

One Hundred and Six - BF  
  
Scott and Virgil were sitting on the patio looking out over the setting sun, listening to the waves on the beach. They were waiting for the time for the meeting to arrive.  
  
"It's been ages since we've both been able to enjoy this." Scott said.  
  
"Mmmn"  
  
Scott looked at Virgil. "Penny for your thoughts."  
  
"Huh? What's that about Penny?"  
  
Scott gave a mock sigh. "I don't know. You've finally got your hearing back and you're not even listening to me!"  
  
"Sorry. I've been thinking."  
  
"That's dangerous."  
  
"There's five of us Tracy boys..."  
  
"Have you only just worked that out?" Despite the impending meeting Scott was in a genial mood.  
  
"... And five senses, right."  
  
"Right." Scott wondered where all this was heading.  
  
"And you'd lost your sight, and I'd lost my hearing..."  
  
"Yes..."  
  
"So who's next?" Virgil asked seriously.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Three brothers. Three senses. Who's next?"  
  
At that moment Gordon came out to join them. He was holding his arm gingerly.  
  
"What have you done to yourself?" Scott asked.  
  
"I was watching a fascinating TV show on the Great Barrier Reef." Gordon said as he rubbed his arm carefully. "I got so caught up in it that I didn't realise that I was laying on my arm. It's gone numb! I can't feel a thing!"  
  
Scott and Virgil smiled at each other.  
  
"Three down, two to go." Virgil said.  
  
"What?" Gordon asked  
  
"Congratulations Gordon, you've just become a member of an exclusive club." Scott told him.  
  
"What?" Gordon asked again and then grimaced. "It's not numb now. I'm getting a case of pins and needles that you wouldn't believe." He moved and then bit his lip against the pain. "What's this club?"  
  
"The Senseless Tracy club." Virgil told him.  
  
"Huh."  
  
"Don't worry about it Gordon. Just stand there and ache." Scott levered himself out of the chair. "Come on. Time we prepared ourselves for this meeting."  
  
They wandered into the lounge  
  
"How the heck can you lose your sense of taste or smell...?" Virgil asked no one in particular.  
  
There was a sneeze behind them.  
  
"Gesundheit." They heard Gordon say.  
  
"Remind me to dank dat kid brudder of ours." John moaned. "We were only togeder den minutes when I came 'ome and 'e gives me a stweaming code." He blew his nose.  
  
"Remind me to thank him too." Gordon said screwing up his nose. "You stink!"  
  
"Id's Gwandma's code remedy."  
  
"Guaranteed to cure any cold." She said cheerfully as he felt her grandson's forehead. "At least you don't have a fever."  
  
"He still stinks." Gordon said obstinately.  
  
"I'mb dot worried about dat." John said with a faint air of triumph. "I can'd smell id."  
  
Once again Scott and Virgil smiled at each other "Four brothers down. One to go!" Virgil was starting to enjoy this game.  
  
The chairs were drawn up in a semi-circle around Jeff's desk. They chose their seats at one end of the semi-circle. Gordon, moving cautiously, chose a seat beside them and then loudly insisted that John sit as far away from him as possible.  
  
"Come here, Darling." Grandma Tracy patted the seat beside her. "You can sit next to me."  
  
"Danks Grandma. Ad least someone still loves me."  
  
Tin-Tin came in "Pooh! What's that smell?"  
  
"John!" his three brothers chorused.  
  
She sat next to Gordon.   
  
Kyrano sat next to his daughter.   
  
Brains drew the short straw and ended up sitting next to Grandma Tracy.  
  
Alan came in. "I'm not well," he moaned. "I shouldn't be at this meeting."  
  
"Rubbish!" his Grandmother informed him. "Your cold's almost gone."  
  
"Only almost," Alan was in a black mood.  
  
"For Pete's sake, Alan. It's only a cold. Anyone would think you were at deaths door." Scott scolded him.  
  
"I think I am," he said mournfully. "Where am I sitting?"  
  
"Next to John!" Gordon informed him. "The smell of his liniment will help your cold."  
  
Alan screwed up his nose in distaste. "Thanks."  
  
"How come you're both on Earth? If you ask me, anyone who gets a cold should be banished to Thunderbird Five." Gordon stated firmly. "Somewhere where the rest of us aren't affected by the stench of that liniment!"  
  
Jeff Tracy was the last to arrive. "Mother! Couldn't you have fixed him up after dinner? I'm not going to feel like eating with that smell." He opened some windows even more.  
  
"Who's going back up to Thunderbird Five after the meeting?" Grandma asked. "Neither of those two should fly in their condition."  
  
"We'll worry about who's going to Thunderbird Five after the meeting." Jeff informed him.  
  
Scott, Virgil, Gordon, Brains and Tin-Tin looked at each other uneasily.  
  
Alan sneezed.  
  
"Gesundheit." Everyone said.  
  
Everyone except John. "Serve you righd."  
  
"Charming!" Alan griped. "I get no sympathy. I still can't taste anything," he continued to moan. "That's what I hate about colds. I lose my sense of taste for too long..."  
  
Virgil started to laugh.  
  
Everyone stared at him.  
  
"Sorry." He tried to keep a straight face.  
  
It didn't work.  
  
He started laughing again.  
  
"Virgil." Scott scolded him. "Behave." He gave a snort and sneezed himself.  
  
"There!" Virgil said triumphantly. "You just did it!"  
  
"Did what?" Scott asked in amazement.  
  
"That snort-sneeze-laugh thing. I told you you did that!" Virgil was still laughing.  
  
"I didn't!"  
  
Gordon was smiling, as was the rest of the family. "Yes you did. You think this is funny!"  
  
"Well... maybe..." Scott made the mistake of looking at Virgil.  
  
They both cracked up.  
  
"Boys. Settle down." Jeff said.  
  
It didn't work. In fact they laughed harder.  
  
"Whad id fuddy?" John asked.  
  
"You mean apart from the way you're talking." Virgil managed to gasp out. "Five down. Five members of the 'Senseless..."  
  
"Don't say it!" Scott pleaded between laughs.  
  
"You two are a worry!" Tin-Tin stated.  
  
"Better than a fl..."  
  
"Don't say it!" Tears of laughter were running down Virgil's face.  
  
"I wish you guys would let us into the joke." Gordon frowned at them.  
  
By now neither of them could speak.   
  
"Boys! I want to get started on this meeting!" Jeff said sternly. "If you don't behave I'll separate you. One of you can sit next to John!"  
  
"Danks!" John said indignantly. "Dow I'm a punishment!" He stood up. "I'mb goin' to wash id off!"  
  
"Don't you dare!" His grandmother scolded him.  
  
Scott and Virgil leant on each other for support, still laughing hysterically.  
  
"John sit down!" Jeff ordered. "And you two stop laughing!"  
  
Scott struggled to get himself under control. "Sorry." He said wiping the tears out of his eyes. "It's been a long year. And not always one where I've felt like laughing."  
  
"You've no idea how good it is to hear laughter." Virgil added. "Even my own. I'm sorry," he cleared his throat, "I'm okay now."  
  
Brains sighed. "At th-this rate, it'll be Christmas before we even g-get started."  
  
"Christmas." Scott said wistfully. "I'll be able to see the lights this year. I really missed that..."  
  
"Hear the Carols..." Virgil added.  
  
"See my family unwrap their presents..."  
  
"Quiet!" Jeff ordered, frowning at the pair of them.  
  
"Sorry." Scott said. "We got carried away."  
  
"We'll shut up." Virgil offered.  
  
"Good!" Jeff said. "Because I want to discuss a serious matter. I want to discuss the future of International Rescue..." 


	76. One Hundred and Seven

One Hundred and Seven - BF  
  
"I want to discuss the future of International Rescue..."  
  
The words had a sobering effect on them all. They sat quietly to listen to what was coming next.  
  
"A few weeks ago I was going to shut International Rescue down, but then I realised that this shouldn't be my decision alone." Jeff cleared his throat. "I guess I don't need to tell you all why I want to have this discussion. The last eighteen months or so have been hard for this family... And I'm including you three," he indicated Brains, Tin-Tin and Kyrano with a sweep of his hand. "You are a part of this family and I don't ever want you to think otherwise... As I was saying, we've had events happen that have had far reaching effects on us all."  
  
Everyone looked at Scott and Virgil.  
  
They looked somewhat self-conscious.  
  
"We can only count ourselves lucky that things haven't been worse. That, at long last, things have reverted to what we can loosely call normal. Everyone is fully functioning, fit and healthy..."  
  
John sneezed.  
  
"Gesundheit." Jeff continued on, "We all know that every time the team goes out on a rescue there's always going to be a chance that someone could be badly hurt or killed. We discussed this before we started operations, and I'm sure you've discussed it amongst yourselves since. We've had all too frightening reminders of what can possibly happen and I want us all to re-evaluate whether we continue with this venture.  
  
"If we shut down International Rescue, it will obviously be a big upheaval for us all. There will be no need for us to continue to live on Tracy Island, so we may move back to the States. Everyone will have to decide what they want to do with their lives. We may split up and find ourselves living in totally different parts of the world away from each other. You would have the opportunity to live 'normal' lives, maybe getting the opportunity to experience the joys and grief that I've experienced over the last 34 years with you five boys.  
  
"It's a lot to think about, which is why I don't want anyone to make their decision right now. Go for a walk, sleep on it, do whatever you do that helps you think... Take as long as you need... Then I'm going to ask everyone to vote in a secret ballot."  
  
He sat back to see if there were any comments on his speech.  
  
Everyone sat in stunned silence.  
  
Jeff held up a Babelet. "I've set this up with the voting form. It's got three statements and I want each of you to think about and decide which statement you want to tick. Once everyone has voted then I'll collate them all and make my decision."  
  
"What are the statements?" Alan asked quietly.  
  
"Number one says: 'I believe International Rescue should continue'. Number two is: 'I believe International Rescue should continue, but I would like to change my role in the organisation'. Number three:" Jeff paused for a moment. "Number three: 'I believe International Rescue should be shut down'."  
  
There were murmurings from the group seated in front of him.  
  
"The Babelet will stay in the theatre so that each voter is assured of privacy. Whenever you feel you've made your decision then please vote. But don't feel pressured into making your decision today. This is something that requires a lot of thought."  
  
"What if someone votes for number two?" Gordon asked. "You'll have to know who that person is to find out what they want to do, or not do, as the case may be."  
  
"I'll let you know once all the votes are in, and ask that person to make themselves known to me in private."  
  
"Ad if someone vodes for dumber thwee?" John sniffed.  
  
"It will depend on the number of votes I get. If it's only one person we'll have another meeting and discuss the option. If it's a majority..." Jeff's face held a grim expression, "I'll shut International Rescue down."  
  
Outside a gull screeched.   
  
Inside there was silence.  
  
Scott cleared his throat. "I don't need to consider this. I already know how I'm going to vote. There's been times when I couldn't see myself doing anything BUT working for International Rescue. There were also times, when I was blind, that I wished I'd never heard of International Rescue." He picked up the Babelet and looked at the three questions. "I guess you could say that I, and Virgil, have been the worst affected over the past eighteen months, that International Rescue has affected our lives the most. And during that time I've often thought about this very question... should International Rescue continue? Did I want to continue? Did I want to risk another in my family going through what I went through? And... now that I've got my sight back again, do I want to risk my neck anymore...?" He made a tick. "There's my answer." He pushed the submit button and went to put the Babelet back on the desk.  
  
Virgil held out his hand for it. "I've been sitting here wondering if maybe my hearing had gone funny again. Judging by everyone's faces I guess not." He looked at the words on the Babelet. "Like Scott I've often considered whether International Rescue should continue, especially while I was deaf. I've also considered what other roles I could have in the organisation." He looked at his family. "I would hate to go through another year like the one we've just had. It'd probably send me crazy." He gave a small smile as he made his tick and submitted his vote.  
  
Gordon took the Babelet off him. "I know I'm a joker, that I don't always seem to take life seriously, but that's because I love life and want to enjoy it. Believe me, my hydrofoil accident gave me a respect for life that I didn't have in my earlier years. Every day I'm thankful that I'm still here, that I can walk and talk," he grinned, "and torment the rest of you. Before International Rescue started I thought long and hard about whether I wanted to be part of it, and since then, after every rescue I've revisited the same question." He made his mark.  
  
"Push the scramble button will you, Gordon." Jeff instructed. "I want to keep the votes secret."  
  
Tin-Tin looked at the Babelet. "Do you want us to vote too, Mr Tracy?"  
  
"Yes please, Tin-Tin. This is something that affects the whole family. But you don't have to now..."  
  
She'd already taken the Babelet from Gordon's hands and cast her vote. "I know it's easier for me." She said. "I'm not out on rescues as often, so I'm not often in as much danger as the boys. I also know that should something happen to one of them, it would be like losing a brother. And I should hate that." She gave a shy smile and pushed the scramble button.  
  
"May I, my daughter?" Kyrano took the Babelet. "Mr Tracy. I am honoured that you consider me to be part of your family. I am also honoured that you respect me enough to take my thoughts and feelings into consideration. I love your boys, and Mister Brains, as if they were my own sons. Some of the pain you have felt this past year with Mister Scott's and Mister Virgil's disabilities I also have shared. I have often thought how I would feel should it be my Tin-Tin who was afflicted in a similar way. I have my opinions as to whether International Rescue should continue and I shall vote now." He placed his tick and pressed the submit button.  
  
Amazed at the way his family were deciding so rapidly, Jeff watched as the Babelet passed into Brains' hands.  
  
"Whenever I-I've conceived a new machine or device, I-I've tried to think of every contingency, to try and keep the operator and victim as safe as p-possible. I-I'm a genius, but even I can't keep International Rescue's operatives safe at all times, short of getting them to wear f-full body armour from the moment they step out of their Thunderbird, wh-which wouldn't be practical. I am aware that th-there is a possibility that one day, despite my best efforts, s-s-someone may be injured seriously while using something I've invented. It is a th-thought that hangs heavily on my mind." He voted as he said this, pushed the submit button and then scrambled the votes.  
  
He went to put the Babelet on the desk but Mrs Tracy stopped him. "Jeff. You are asking me to decide whether or not I'm going to agree to allow my grandsons to continue to risk their lives in order to help complete strangers?"  
  
"That's right, Mother."  
  
"Good." She placed her tick and stabbed at the submit button.  
  
"Here, Gwandma." John took it from her and sniffed. "Mosd of you 'ave no idea 'ow frustrading id can be, being up in Dunderbird Five, lisdening do whad's happenin' down here, and nod being able to do anydin'. Especially when one of you is in twouble. How aware I am dat id wouldn' take much for me to be todally isolated from you all. One communication breakdown and I'd be stuck up in space alone." He coughed. "I know how I want to vote." He did, trying to stifle a sneeze in the process.  
  
"Guess I'm lucky last." Alan took the Babelet. "If I wasn't involved with International Rescue I know exactly what I'd be doing, and who I'd be doing it with..." he looked at Tin-Tin out of the corner of his eye. "There are times when I really miss the thrill of the race, whether I was in front, or in the pits unable to go anywhere due to some malfunction, there was always the excitement of the sounds, the smells, the speed..." He placed his tick and submitted. "Whatever I do, I need that excitement."  
  
"Push scramble please, Alan." Jeff instructed.  
  
"Done!" Alan handed the Babelet to his father.  
  
Jeff grasped the instrument. "I can't believe how quickly you've all voted. Does anyone wish to change their minds?" He looked at each individual carefully. They all shook their heads.  
  
He stood. "Right. I'm going to pack. I'm going up to Thunderbird Five..."  
  
"You!" He received a chorus from his family.  
  
He smiled grimly. "Yes me! I want to experience first hand just what it's like up there before I place my vote. I'll stay there until Alan is fully recovered from his cold. The solitude will give me the peace I need to consider my decision, and also I'll be able to catch up on some of my Tracy Industries backlog."  
  
"But, talking about Tracy Industries," Scott asked uneasily, "who's going to take care of business?"  
  
"I will. Most of my meetings are done by video conferencing. The people I meet with have no idea where I'm based. I could be on Mars for all they would know."  
  
"And if International Rescue gets a call out?" Gordon asked.  
  
"I'll co-ordinate from Thunderbird Five."  
  
"So we're still in operation then." Alan said.  
  
"Until I've made my final decision, yes. Now, if you'll excuse me I'd better get packed. Scott and Gordon, will you both take me in Thunderbird Three? We'll leave in two hours." They nodded dumbly. "Sorry Virgil. I'm not willing to trust your ears to space travel just yet."  
  
"Uh, oh, that's okay." Virgil acknowledged dazedly.  
  
Jeff held up the Babelet. "Last chance?"  
  
No one took him up on the offer.  
  
He put it under his arm and walked out of the lounge.  
  
"Whew!" Scott rubbed his face. "That was a turn up for the books! I think I need some fresh air." He stood and walked out to the patio and then down the steps.  
  
He'd reached the beach when he heard some steps behind him. "Hi Virg."  
  
Virgil fell into step beside him. "What did you put?"  
  
"Do you need to ask?"  
  
Virgil smiled tightly. "No."  
  
"Same goes for you huh?"  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"Wait up guys!" They heard Gordon's voice behind them. "What do you make of that?"  
  
"What? Quitting International Rescue or going to Thunderbird Five?" Virgil asked.  
  
"Both!"  
  
Scott shrugged. "He's had a big fright over the past year... we all have."  
  
"And Dunderbird Five?" John asked.  
  
"He wanted to get away from your smell." Alan told him.  
  
"Danks."  
  
Gordon rotated his shoulders, feeling the tropical sun beating down through his shirt. "I can't imagine living anywhere else now."  
  
"We won't know if we'll have to." Virgil stated. "The vote could go any way."  
  
They were silent for moment.  
  
Scott felt the need to do something vigorous, to feel alive. "Race you to the end of the beach."  
  
"You're on!" Alan and Gordon were grinning, their old competitive instincts back to the fore.  
  
"Nod me." John groaned. "I'll watch."  
  
"You're getting old Johnny." Gordon taunted him. "You'll just have to watch us beat the other old fellas."  
  
"Old fellas!" Virgil exclaimed. "Right! You've got my dander up now! What's the course?"  
  
"Here's the start." Scott drew a line in the sand, in line with where John was now sitting. "What say we go from here, around that log, and back? John, you can be the judge."  
  
"Fine." John said. "I can manage dat. And Scott, you'd bedder win, jus' to deach dhe kids a lesson."  
  
"I'll do my best, John."  
  
"I thought he was the judge." Alan said. "That means you are supposed to be impartial."  
  
"I am. I don' care who wins. Eider Scott or Virgil, I don' mind."  
  
They lined up.  
  
"Everyone ready?" John asked.  
  
"Ready."  
  
"Ready."  
  
"Ready."  
  
"Ready."  
  
"Go!"  
  
They were off in a spray of sand.  
  
John coughed away the sand. "Danks guys!" he called after them.  
  
Neck and neck they raced up the beach. The log was getting nearer. Scott lengthened his stride, put his hand on the log to assist his turn and started heading back.  
  
Virgil moved marginally wider to ensure that he wasn't caught up with Scott's legs. This forced Alan and Gordon to move wider still, increasing the length they had to run.  
  
Gordon tried to push Alan out of his way and managed to briefly get entangled with his younger brother. "Get out of my way!"  
  
They were all back on the homeward straight.  
  
John was on his feet. "Go Scott! Go Virgil!" he pulled his jersey off to use as a flag.  
  
Alan and Gordon were gaining.  
  
Scott and Virgil, faces set in determination, increased their speed.  
  
"Go!"  
  
At the sounds of yelling Jeff Tracy looked out his window. He grinned when he saw his sons racing together.   
  
"C'mon Virgil! C'mon Scott!"  
  
The finishing line was getting close.  
  
So was the finish.  
  
Scott threw himself over the line in the sand.  
  
So did Virgil.  
  
John excitedly waved his 'flag'. "The winners!"  
  
"Yes!" Scott and Virgil high-fived each other and John.  
  
"It wasn't a fair contest." Alan moaned. "I'm sick!"  
  
"Then you shouldn't be racing should you." Virgil told him.  
  
"And you got in my way, Alan!" Gordon said sulkily.   
  
Scott put his arms condescendingly around his two youngest brothers shoulders. "Never mind kiddos. One day you'll be big and strong like us."  
  
"What say we challenge you to a swimming race?" Gordon asked.  
  
"Are you kidding!" Virgil exclaimed. "With age and experience comes wisdom. You'd beat us all with your legs tied to the diving board."  
  
"Go Kart race?" Alan offered.  
  
Scott and Virgil started walking back down the beach shaking their heads. "No way! Come on John. Lets go celebrate!"  
  
"Scuba race?" Gordon called hopefully.  
  
He received a dismissive wave by way of a reply.  
  
***  
  
"Bunch of big kids." Jeff said to himself.  
  
"And you love them all." He started and turned when he heard the voice. His mother was standing there.  
  
"Look at them!" Alan and Gordon had tackled their older brothers and now all five were wrestling in the sand. "They remind me of overgrown puppies... How often do the five of them get the opportunity to be all together and just have fun?" He turned back to the window. "I'd do anything to protect them."  
  
"Even if that means forgoing your dreams? Shutting down International Rescue?" she asked.  
  
"If that's what the majority want, yes."  
  
"Why do I get the feeling that you've already decided how you're going to vote, Jeff. That you don't really need to go to Thunderbird Five to think about this?"  
  
"Because I have made up my mind!"  
  
"Are you going to tell me what you've decided?"  
  
"No."  
  
"It doesn't matter," she took his arm and looked out the window to where her Grandsons were tussling with each other. "I already know..."  
  
Jeff smiled at her and then looked back out the window. His two youngest sons had clearly decided that his oldest needed to wash away the sand that now coated them all. They unceremoniously threw Scott into the pool.  
  
Then they turned on Virgil.  
  
The way he was backing away, hands held up defensively he was clearly advising them that his ears weren't ready to be immersed in water yet.  
  
They backed him into a shed and shut the door, placing a chair in front to keep him there.  
  
Laughing, John fell off the sun-lounger from where he'd been watching proceedings.  
  
They turned on him.  
  
He ran...  
  
*** 


	77. One Hundred and Eight

One Hundred and Eight   
  
  
  
Scott buckled up the safety harness in the pilot's seat of Thunderbird One.  
  
That had been an easy rescue, as rescues go. Maybe he'd take Thunderbird One for a burn on the way home, give her a chance to stretch her wings...  
  
"Thunderbird One to Thunderbird Two. Everyone set?"  
  
"Nearly, Scott." His brother's voice sailed out of the radio. "We've got one more detail to take care of then we'll be heading off."  
  
"Everyone in one piece?"  
  
"Everyone's just fine. We've all got the required number of hands, feet, ears and eyes."   
  
Another brother's voice came over the airwaves. "We're all shipshape and Bristol fashion, as Gordon might say..."  
  
"No I mightened." Scott heard Gordon retort.  
  
"Okay, I'm taking off now. I'll see you back at base."  
  
"F-A-B, Scott. See you soon."  
  
Virgil turned to his brothers. "Okay, Radio TB2 is about to go on air. Any requests?" He was in a buoyant mood.  
  
"'Splitting Headache' by 'Severed Limb'?" Gordon asked cheerfully.  
  
"Oh, no!" John groaned. "Not that. Do you know how often I have to hear that on Thunderbird Five? It's rubbish!"  
  
"No it's not!" Gordon objected, "It's great!"  
  
"And I don't have it in Thunderbird Two's computer." Virgil told him. "So you'll have to choose something else."  
  
"Are you sure?" Gordon asked slyly.  
  
"Why, what have you been up to?" Virgil asked warily as he ran through the music database. "Who said you could load your music onto my computer?!"  
  
"I thought Thunderbird Two was mine for a while there. So I thought I could load whatever I liked."  
  
"Well it's not yours. Why have you password protected it?"  
  
"So you wouldn't try to delete it. C'mon Virg. You said we could choose what we want. I want to hear that."  
  
"Okay." Virgil said grudgingly. "Sorry John. What do you want to hear?"  
  
"Do you need to ask?" Gordon said with a mock groan.  
  
"No. We've got time for one planet. Which one, John?"  
  
"'Mars'. I feel like listening to 'Mars'."  
  
"Finally communicating with those Rock Snakes are you?" Gordon laughingly asked.  
  
Virgil was scrolling through the database. "Holst... The Planets... 'Mars'. And I choose..." he entered his selection. "Are you both ready?"  
  
He received twin affirmative murmurs. He set Thunderbird Two's VTOL jets into action.  
  
Gordon's piece of 'music' started playing.  
  
Virgil grimaced as he activated the radio. "Thunderbird Two to Thunderbird Five."  
  
"Thunderbird Five. Go ahead Virgil."  
  
"We're leaving danger zone now, Alan."  
  
"Good. Hey is that 'Splitting Headache' I can hear? Good choice Gordon."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"It's already giving me a splitting headache," John moaned.   
  
"We'll get it out of the way and then we won't have to listen to it again," Virgil tried to reassure him.  
  
"Don't know about that," Alan informed him. "It's top of the charts. I hear it at least once every five minutes on Thunderbird Five's radios."  
  
"Brilliant." John said unenthusiastically. "Do you think it'll be out of the charts by the time I get back up there."  
  
"Probably not!" Alan said brightly. "I'll leave you guys to your entertainment. Call me up when you're nearly home."  
  
"Okay, Alan. Talk to you later. Out." Virgil disconnected the radio conversation. Then he groaned. "You know, I was hearing better sounds when I was deaf and could only hear the tinnitus!"  
  
Gordon started singing along. "I want to die, my head is full of tacks, I've got a splitting headache from where you hit me with the axe."  
  
John put his fingers in his ears.  
  
Virgil could only tolerate it for the first verse and the chorus. He turned it off.  
  
"Hey! You murdered it!" Gordon complained.  
  
"It was a mercy killing." John assured him. "That guy was in pain."  
  
"Sorry Gordon. I couldn't concentrate on piloting Thunderbird Two and listen to that as well."  
  
"The problem is that you guys are too old. You can't appreciate good music."  
  
"I can," Virgil told him, "and that's not music. Good or otherwise. I'm still trying to work out precisely what it is."  
  
Gordon started to sulk. "It's not fair! I'll have to listen to what you've chosen!"  
  
"Bring your headset next time and you can listen to it to your hearts content." John suggested. "In the meantime Virgil and I have voted that we don't want to listen to that. You're outnumbered."  
  
"You can't really like it, can you?" Virgil asked as he made a slight adjustment to Thunderbird Two's course. "There's no tune, the vocalist can't sing and they yell the same words over and over again. It's repetitious!"  
  
"I'll bet they said the same thing about the "Halleluiah Chorus"." Gordon said petulantly. "Have you listened to its lyrics lately?"  
  
"At least it has a tune."  
  
"A repetitious one."  
  
"Can we listen to 'Mars' now?" John asked, trying to prevent an argument.  
  
"Okay John." Virgil activated the computer again. "I'll be pleased to listen to that..."  
  
***  
  
Scott checked his computer. He was in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Miles from habitation and any human life. He grinned to himself and pulled back on the throttle.  
  
Thunderbird One screamed skywards. He felt the g-forces build up before he reversed direction sending her spinning into a dive.  
  
With a whoop of joy he straightened out before sending the craft into a barrel roll.  
  
Once again he headed for the heavens, watching as the sky darkened from pale blue through darker shades, growing closer to Earth's upper atmosphere.  
  
His ascent was topped with a parabolic arc and he briefly experienced the sensation of weightlessness, then he was accelerating back down towards the ocean below.   
  
The white caps were just below his fuselage when he finally straightened out, skimming along the top of the waves.  
  
"Thunderbird Five to Thunderbird One."  
  
"Thunderbird One!" Scott couldn't keep the smile out of his voice.  
  
"You okay? I'm picking up some drastic altitude changes."  
  
"Just playing, Alan. For once I'm enjoying myself."  
  
"Why didn't you do that when I was with you?"  
  
"What? When you were unconscious?"  
  
"No I mean..." Alan realised that Scott was pulling his leg. "So you're glad to be back in the saddle!"  
  
"You got it! Nothing like being in control of a plane, just being in control, and watching the world flash by..."  
  
***  
  
Jeff Tracy sat at his desk.  
  
He was holding the Babelet.  
  
He scrolled through the completed voting forms. Despite his desire to keep the results secret he still knew exactly how each member of the family had voted. He could tell by the manner in which the ticks had been placed.  
  
Kyrano's tick was small and in the corner of the box, as if he were reticent about voting.  
  
Tin-Tin's was a delicate, ladylike tick.  
  
His mother's was strong, though slightly tremulous, a result of the arthritis that she refused to allow to beat her.  
  
Brains had ticked his box twice. Even in the written form he stuttered.  
  
Gordon had drawn a smiley face.  
  
John's tick had skittered across the box, a result of him trying to hold back the sneeze.  
  
Alan's had been done at speed - racing from one side of the box to the other.  
  
Virgil had used his left hand, and as was his wont when ticking with his left hand, had done the tick backwards... with a flourish at the end.  
  
Scott's was strong, sure, confident and in control.  
  
Jeff looked at the last tick in the group. He knew who this one belonged to because it had been initialled.  
  
J.T.  
  
Jefferson Tracy.  
  
He, he had to admit, was not surprised that each tick had been in the same box, each vote had been for the same result.  
  
Each person had voted for the same thing.  
  
'I believe International Rescue should continue'.  
  
Jeff smiled and laid down the Babelet.  
  
International Rescue would continue!  
  
Thunderbirds Were Go!  
  
***  
  
***  
  
The end  
  
***  
  
At last!!!!  
  
What a marathon - I think I've worn out my running shoes.  
  
I hope everyone's enjoyed reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it. And that we've all learnt something, I know I have.  
  
Thanks to those who took the time to send me reviews. They were all very much appreciated, especially from those who reviewed regularly.  
  
Thank you all.  
  
Purupuss  
  
  
  
  
  
Kindness is a language that the deaf can hear and the blind can see.  
  
Anon 


End file.
